Fall of the Heroes
by Thor
Summary: A Werewolf tale about heroism and acceptance. Finished...whew!
1. The Gathering Storm

Greetings once again o loyal reader. Welcome to my first attempt at a Werewolf tale. (It's true, there is no Marv, Harris, Blue, or Anne in this story!) As shocking as that may be I think it is still a very good story and worth your time to peruse. Basicaly this is a story that sprang from a simple question I once asked. Whatever happens to the heroes when the story ends? They've fought, bled, suffered, lost, and learned from the experience. So...what happens next? This story is also about heroism and respect. It is about growing and becoming. Please join a group of old and powerful friends who have managed to end a great evil, and see what has become of them and meet the fresh young blood who grew up in their shadows.

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter 1: The Gathering Storm

The dream was always the same. They were all there again, trapped in the dark bowels of the earth. Battling for their lives in the shattered temple of some corrupt god. Below them the green muck of the accursed birthing pits bubbled and popped. Belching forth hideous aromas that burned his nose and pained his eyes. Strange, shapeless masses crawled from the pits, the beasts swarming upwards to crush and destroy him and his friends. But they had a plan! The Black Crystal, the house of Tyranthraxus's soul. All they had to do was destroy it, destroy it to end the madness and save the lives of countless humans. 

The swarms of the pit pushed in around them, trying to crush their very souls. Marn, mighty Marn, his claws and fangs drenched in gore as he fought the hordes, stood proud, urging them all on to greater glory. Behind him crouched Quentin, protected from danger by the skilled Galliard. Quentin, his magic strong within him, prepared the ritual that would send the Black Crystal into oblivion. They had to protect him, and so he battled the hordes. His vision swam with the mindless brutality of the fight. Snowflake stood next to him, her fur shining white and splattered red with blood. The magic swirled around the shattered temple, the earth cracked and splintered. Rends-the-Darkness howled as he ripped into the hordes. Quentin neared the finishing of his spell. Suddenly First-to-Find exploded, his body torn apart by a wave of darkness. Malise, the mad sorcerer had finally arrived. His dark magic spun about him as he tried to save his temple and his god. Blood sprayed and flowed across the floor. Spells clashed and sparked in the air. Spirits screamed in pain and died. The earth itself was cracked open around them, below lay only the unimaginable horrors of the pit. Claws flashed! A throat was torn! A hero fell. Darkness swarmed in. The end came. 

"Nooooo!" A ragged scream of despair. The dream ended, he gasped in fear and felt again all the old pains. His face was dripping with sweat, his breath hissing in his lungs. His head pounded, whether from terror or a hangover he was unsure. Nor could he bring himself to care. He looked over at the scattered and empty bottles of alcohol laying around him. He finally sighed as he spotted one still half full. He reached out and grabbed it, the amber liquid sloshing reassuringly inside the dark bottle. Half full....did that make him an optimist? He drank it and allowed the booze to dull his senses. Dim his mind. Somehow...somehow make him forget. 

* * *

Jake waited amongst the trees. Next to him crouched Denise and Dennis. The fraternal twins glanced over at him, the eagerness in their eyes easily matching the gleam of excitement in his own. Tonight, was their night, tonight was their first hunt, tonight they earned their names. Jake once again shifted the few branches he had chopped down in order to hide his position with. He pulled the leaves in tight against him as he looked towards the direction of their target. He could now hear them coming, clomping and bouncing through the trees. Their high pitched and nasally voices an insult to his ears. His eyes narrowed as he caught the first scent of them, it was sickly sweet and churned his stomach. 

But Jake forced himself to concentrate, he wouldn't become sick and weak just at the smell of them. No, he would rip them apart and earn glory for himself and for his caern. He scowled as he remembered his home. The worried looks on the faces of some of the elders as they had watched him and the others go out. The elders questioned whether he and his friends could manage, whether they were capable of gaining honor in battle. But the elders had sent them out anyway, the war had long been taxing, slaying the most capable warriors. Jake and the others would be needed if his caern was to survive the upcoming battles.

The voices were closer now, high pitched and shrill to his ears. But he was Ahroun, born under the sign of the full moon, born to be a warrior. He would not flee, he would not weaken. Nearby Denise and Dennis also grew ready. Though they were Ragabesh, tricksters and sneakers, they too would be needed as warriors. Jake recalled the words of the elders. All of them were warriors to the cause first and foremost, all else was secondary. No more were the three pups all smiles and eager nervous energy. Now they crouched and waited patiently. Ready for the battle. Ready for the hunt. Jake found himself recalling the tales of glory that had been spoken of to him in the caern. Legends of the greatest of the warriors who had fought and died for the cause. He offered up a silent prayer that they would watch over him now. Give him the strength to rend his foes. Give him the courage to bring honor to the caern.

The voices grew louder as their owners came into sight. At first glance they appeared to be little more then a gathering of five excited children and their nurse or mother herding them along. The woman even carried the remains of a picnic basket under her arm. Some of the children held the blanket upon which they had enjoyed their feast. Jake scowled, he did as the elders had taught him. He looked beyond their human faces, forced himself to try to view their true image. Once again he fought the urge to be sick. Their true faces were marred and twisted images, horrors that shouldn't be allowed to exist. He steeled himself for his attack. He knew what he had to do.

Denise and Dennis also grew calm and ready. They were all thinking the same things. They recalled the warnings of the elders. That the beasts were frail but held within them dark magic that was to be respected and avoided. But he and the others would have surprise on their side, they would strike before the little abominations knew what was happening. Jake grinned to himself as he started to reach down into the deep pit within himself, called to the power he knew awaited him there. He invoked the names of the heroes of his caern one last time. His only hope was that he would claim enough kills to make even the elders take notice of his skills. His eyes glinted as he felt the power within him swell, felt the animal urges sweep through him. It was time! 

* * *

"An then I went and rode a pink pony all round the house," exclaimed the excited boggin as she pranced along in front of Puck. The pooka nodded in amusement as the childer continued to spin the story of her fanciful dream. The other childer all listened and giggled as the story now included the appearance of Arienkel the Sage, the venerable Sidhe had apparently been reduced to running around the house and trying to chase down the boggin and her mount. Puck forced herself to appear to laugh as she rolled her bright eyes upward and almost found herself wishing Arienkel was here.

Ever since she had bested him in teaching a young childer a lesson on the nature of the world Arienkel had withdrawn from wanting to teach the young faeries anything. As a result Lady Ayloshia had decreed that Puck would take over until such time as the respected sage felt ready to resume his task. She wrinkled her small beak-like nose as she shook her head, it all seemed too much like responsibility to her. She smiled in relief as the boggin's tale finally ended. She would be happy when she got the kids back to the freehold, they had been out too late and night had fallen on them. Puck crammed one of her hands into the large pockets of her orange pants as she walked along, she knew she was going to be reprimanded for keeping the kids out after dark.

"Hey Puck, tell us a story!!!!" She staggered forward and dropped to her knees as Twilight hopped onto her back and wrapped his hands tightly (and, noted Puck in annoyance, painfully) through her blue and green feathery hair. His cloven feet dug sharply into her ribs as he clung to her as Puck started to think of what punishment to mete out for his rudeness. However, in the next instant she was wishing to give the wild satyr a hundred stories in exchange for his jump. Even as she dropped to her knees a large black shape had burst from the underbrush and sailed through the air, claws hissed above her, slashing through the space her head had been but instants before.

"Monsters!!!!" The childer all howled as they started to scramble about wildly. Puck quickly grabbed Twilight and dragged him off her back as she stood up again. Two more of the beasts were rising up from hiding ahead of them. The first had smashed his face into a tree when he had missed her, but he was quickly regaining his feet, shaking his large head about as he turned back towards them. Puck's multicolored eyes narrowed as she eyed the creatures. They were misshapen horrors. Long and lanky they all stood over eight feet tall. Thick, prickly black hair coated them in wild, almost random patches. Their mouths were filled with shark-like teeth, huge black talons sprouted from their massive curled fingers. Their eyes glinted with a sickly green, madness filled glow. Puck knew well what they were, and how at risk her young charges now were.

"Black Spirals," she hissed, "attend, to me, attend!" Her usually squeaky and humor filled voice now cut sharp and hard through the freshly fallen dusk night. The young faeries quickly rushed to her, crowding around her as the three monsters began to move in, watching them carefully. "Listen to me," urged Puck, silencing their fearful cries. "I shall distract them, and you will run. Run straight back to the freehold. Do not pause, and do not wait for me! Do you understand?" They quickly nodded at her, their eyes fearful. Puck then grinned as she looked up at the three Spirals, her hands digging into her pockets as she charged the two that blocked the fastest escape route.

"Rarggh! Kill!!!" Behind her came the hoarse cry of anger from the first to attack. His heavy, pounding footsteps raced towards her. She started rushing the other two, the panicked childer following along with her. Puck rushed straight at the two Spirals. They grinned as they rushed to meet her, blood in their eyes. One of them raised its mightily clawed arm as it neared, next to it the other barred its crooked rows of fangs. Puck's hands lashed out of her pockets, they opened as she snapped them towards the Spiral's faces. Two clouds of itching powder slapped into the shocked eyes and mouths of the two monsters, they reared back, momentarily blinded and coughing in shock.

"Run, run now!" Puck motioned the childer to continue on. Twilight led the way, his horse-like legs quickly carrying him past the two visually impaired beasts. Puck spun around to look at the last of the creatures. It howled wildly, the call sounding like a warbled and twisted call of a whippoorwill. Puck sprang to the side as the beast lunged, its claws hissing past her sides and only narrowly missing her. She rolled up to her feet in time to see him smash into his two friends, sending them all to the ground in a startled heap. She turned and pulled out a spring which she dropped on the ground. She hopped onto it, and with a loud sproing was launched up onto a thick branch above her.

"Get off," snarled one of the Spirals as it kicked another back. One of them was simply curled up on the ground, fingers wildly wiping at the dust on its face as it wailed in pain. Puck shook her own hands, more then feeling the effects of the powder, and glad she didn't have it in her eyes. The one who had almost killed her twice stood first, his dark gaze looking down the path towards the distant shapes of her fleeing students. Her eyes narrowed, better get his attention, and quick. 

* * *

Jake hissed in anger as he shoved Denise off him. Nearby Dennis was down on the ground and mewling like a newborn cub. Jake growled as he stood up and caught sight of the fleeing little brats, he grinned, he could still catch them, and then...his thoughts were cut short by an irritating and sing-song voice from behind him. "Aww, lookit the stinky daw-awg. He is as dense as a lo-og. If he weren't so dumb, he'd turn around some. And try to get my Po-og!" Jake spun around in annoyance. There, on a high branch of a tree, stood the oldest of the fey creatures. She danced and capered upon the branch as she sang. Her arm was thrust forward to show him a small round piece of cardboard with the picture of a smiling face sticking its tongue out. He scowled, Pog? Why the hell would he want a Pog? What the hell was a Pog? Why the fuck was she showing him a Pog!?! His vision swam red in annoyance as she danced around.

"I'll Pog you!" Shouted Jake in half snarls as he charged towards her.

"Oooooh, I'm worried noooow," she chimed in her aggravating voice. Jake's vision blurred into a red rage as he charged and leaped towards her, his powerful legs springing and pushing him upwards with all his might. The fearie leaped up and grabbed onto a smaller branch above her. Jake's claws caught at nothing as he smashed hard into the branch. He scrabbled for a handhold and ended up dangling underneath the large limb she had been standing on. Even as he cursed his own foolishness and failed attack he again heard her burst into singing rhymes. "Oh mighty hunter I'm scar-ared. Look how poorly you've fare-ared. You tried to hit me, but just caught a tree. Now of the ground bewa-ared!"

Jake looked up in confusion, wondering what she could mean. She grinned at him as she hurled the Pog at the juncture of the branch and the tree. There was a sharp crack as the Pog hit, and then a loud creak and pop. Jake's eyes widened in terror as he suddenly realized that she had blasted the branch off the tree. He plummeted down into the foliage, and smashed hard onto the dirt. Then the full weight of the thick branch smashed down on top of him. Jake moaned in pain.

"Arrragh! Kill you bitch!" Denise scrambled to her feet and charged the tree madly. She slammed into it full tilt, there was a series of horrible popping sounds. Denise was tossed back, some of her bones broken. But as the tree shook there was a yelp of surprise as the fearie's grip slipped and she fell off the tree and into a bush. Dennis grinned in glee, he ignored the wounded moans of his fellows as he scampered towards the bush. His eyes burned and itched, and his vision was blurry as he leaped into it and started to rip the plant apart.

"Where!!!! Where little fucker," he growled. He looked around again, and suddenly paused. There! He could see the bright gleam of her orange pants and yellow shirt! She seemed to be waving at him! Dennis howled as he charged forward, his head down and claws out. He moved as fast as he could, his black form a hiss in the darkness as he rammed full tilt into her. He felt bones and cartilage snap and pop as he was hurled back hard.

"Oh the wolf I will mo-ock! He went and rammed a ro-ock. He'll hit his head, though he wished me dead. But my image was an illusory cro-ock! Jake roared as he hurled the branch off him and sprang to his feet. His mind seethed and bubbled in mindless anger as he turned to look at the capering figure. She turned and saw him, he flexed his claws, drool slavered from his maw. But she only giggled. Jake snapped! With a wild howl of madness he rushed for her, his claws hissing through the air wildly in front of him. Her hands sank into her pockets, but he didn't care. Nothing could stop his rush, he was moving too fast, he would have her! She tossed a spring on the ground, right in front of his descending foot.

"Waaagh!!!!!" Jake was hurled into the air, he smashed hard into some branches. They ripped and tore at him as he splintered through them. Then he slammed suddenly into a trunk, he heard the crunch of bones and felt a stab of pain as he started to fall. Lacking the force of his ascent, the descent was more embarrassing by far. He bounced and thumped off branches as he fell, spinning and twisting as he met each new obstacle. Finally he crashed hard to the ground, his vision spinning and confused. He saw the faerie hold up her other hand, cupped in it were three very small glass containers holding a pale piss yellow colored liquid. He grunted as he started to stand, just let her get close! Instead she hurled the glass objects at him.

"I'm gonna take a chance and roll some di-ice! You are ugly and full of li-ice! I toss these at you, so you'll smell like a shoe. I hope it'll teach you to be ni-ice!" The containers shattered as they struck him. Jake gagged, oh no!!! Stink bombs! She had just tossed three stink bombs on him! He reeled back as the pungent smell assaulted his keen nose. He scrabbled and rubbed his face in the dirt, wildly rolling around as he tried to wipe the stench off of him. He heard the giggling and tinkling laughter of the faerie as she made good her escape, he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He rolled about a few more times, gouging into the thick dark earth as he tried to remove the smell, but it wouldn't come off!

"What the hell was that?" The voice cut through all of Jake's problems and made him sit up in surprised fear. Dirt dribbled off his face as he turned slowly to see the figure walking out of the shadows. Kendar! Kendar, The Head Collector! Jake staggered up to his feet as the dread champion of the tribe walked forward. He was in his homid form, and wore his heavy trench coat and hat pulled over his face. From the shadows under his hat Jake could still make out Kendar's dimly glowing yellow eyes. The fearsome Ahroun snarled at the three of them, his fangs visible even in his human shape. "Get on your feet whelps!"

"Yes, lord!" Whined Denise as she shifted back to her homid and hobbled over to Jake, holding her limp left arm gingerly. Dennis came slower still, he too had shifted back and bore a massive purple and black bruise across his face. He scowled as he spit a few broken teeth from his mouth. Jake shifted back as well. He hung his head low as Kendar walked towards them. Denise and Dennis both sniffed the air and took a few not so subtle steps away from Jake. Kendar pulled a cigar out of his pocket and crammed it into his mouth as he eyed them.

"If we didn't need every warrior we could get our hands on I'd kill the three of you on general principal!" They lowered their heads further. "If this is the type of scum Whippoorwill now has serving him then I shed a tear of concern for what our future holds!" They cowered as Kendar stalked in closer to them, "but you are needed, the Wyrm needs your courage and your claws. Do you still wish to serve the Great Wyrm?"

"Yes!" They all howled at once. Jake's eyes burned with fervor, yes, let him serve. He would make Whippoorwill proud, he would slay the foes of the sept. Let him serve! Kendar grunted at them, his eyes narrowing.

"Very well, we shall see. But I warn you, if you fail. If you make even one mistake. Then I will personally rip your heads off myself! You are barely worthy of even serving as sacrifices to the Wyrm, much less warriors....do you understand?"

"Yes!"

"Good...come, kneel before me!" They stepped forward and dropped to their knees. Kendar raised his hand and lowered it to hang slightly over their heads as he howled up into the sky. "I curse thee Luna, thy strength we take from you for our own ends. I spit on thee Gaia, thy power is no more. I bow to thee Wyrm, thy greatness is unquestioned. I beg of thee, take unto thyself these three warriors. These champions of thy will." Jake felt his heart swelling with pride as he and the others quietly chanted to themselves, promising their hearts, bodies, and souls in service to the great Wyrm. Even the slight chuckle in Kendar's voice as he spoke the next words couldn't take the moment of glory from Jake. "Please accept them, they have proved themselves in battle for your glory! I name them for you, I give them new names to honor thy magnificence, to cast aside the old lives, to dwell only in a world created by you!" Kendar stepped back, his eyes blazing as he pointed at Dennis. "Speak thy name!"

"My name is Dennis, child of the Black Spiral, born under the new moon, worshipper of Whippoorwill, servant of the Wyrm!"

"No, your name is....Rockcrusher, child of the Black Spiral, born under the new moon, worshipper of Whippoorwill, servant of the Wyrm." Dennis nodded, his face flushing red in embarrassment, even though it was hard to see under all of the bruises from his collision. Kendar turned to Denise, "speak thy name!"

"My name is Denise, child of the Black Spiral, born under the new moon, worshipper of Whippoorwill, servant of the Wyrm!"

"No, your name is....Treeshaker, child of the Black Spiral, born under the new moon, worshipper of Whippoorwill, servant of the Wyrm." Denise nodded quickly. Jake swallowed nervously as Kendar turned to him. "Speak thy name!"

My name is Jake, child of the Black Spiral, born under the full moon, worshipper of Whippoorwill, servant of the Wyrm." His voice was now not so full, he could feel the subtle insults by Kendar to the others. He heard the slight sniff from the great warrior.

"Ahroun, you are Ahroun?"

"Yes lord," stuttered Jake, shaken that the ritual was no longer flowing along. He heard a snort of disbelief from Kendar, then a few more sniffs and a chuckle.

"No, your name is....Stinkface, child of the Black Spiral, born under the full moon, worshipper of Whippoorwill, servant of the Wyrm." Jake felt his tendons grow tight in rage, but he knew it would be suicide to do anything but accept Kendar's words. Thus he only nodded silently. "Arise children of the Wyrm, and know you are children no more. Tonight you have become warriors!" Rockcrusher, Treeshaker, and Stinkface rose and howled at the moon above them. Stinkface howled until he felt his throat go raw from the exertion, he would show Kendar, he would prove he was more then a fool. Because he knew his time would come, great events were transpiring in the warrens. Soon...soon the Wyrm would rear forth and bellow out in victory as it consumed the city whole. 

* * *

A drop of water slowly condensed along the rusting metal grill. Small droplets of moisture formed, each bulging downward with the weight of the water that shaped them. They ran slowly together, traveling along pathways that had been formed from those who had gone before them. Softly and slowly they came together. Each dew drop quivering in fear and anticipation of what was to come next. They touched. Each separate form seeped together, combining into one single whole, one single being. Completed, perfect, beautiful. The drop glistened and shone in the moonlight that streamed in the window. The drop trembled, perfection was not meant to last. It felt the push of inevitability. It fell, fell down and away soundlessly. All but the little bit that still clung to the metal. Refusing to be dragged down into darkness with the rest.

The drop splashed down on his cheek as he lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was stretched out across the bed, really little more then a mattress laying on the floorboards. His long rust colored hair hung wildly around his head. A thick tuft of it also grew from his powerfully muscled chest. His darkly tanned body was littered with a series of pale white scars. His face was scruffy with a few days growth of stubble, his eyes blurry with the aftereffects of alcohol. He wore only a pair of ratty and stained boxers. He had rented this room for longer then he cared to imagine. It really didn't matter. He had come back here in the hopes of finding something for himself. Anything. Anything to give his life reason again. But this city was as dead as it had ever been. As dead as all the others. Endless cities that all seemed the same, the same dark streets, the same rotting buildings, the same decaying world.

He watched the ceiling and another small drop starting to form. Around the rusting AC panel were dozens of water stains. As he lay on the mattress on the floor, he could see them smeared above his head. They seemed to change shape from day to day. Sometimes he would notice one that looked like a kangaroo, or an airplane, or a crouched chimpanzee. It reminded him of a Rorschach test. He didn't like them. There had been a time he would never have allowed himself to dwell in such squalor. But that had been then, long ago, before his world had been destroyed. Before everything had been taken. He had been different then. He had cared. No more.

There was a terrible buzzing noise. His eyes narrowed. There it was again. The quietude of his solace seeking meditation was shattered by the gross creations of the humans. He shifted his eyes over to look at the black lump of plastic that lay by his mattress. It rang again. He looked back up at the ceiling and sighed. He had know it was a weakness in him that brought the creations of man into his household. But...he really did enjoy the occasional TV show. The phone rang again, making him again slip out of his rest. He growled in annoyance as he reached out to grab the phone. Above him one of the water stains now seemed to shape a large bird in flight. He held the phone to his ear.

"Hello."

"Hah! I know that has to be you. I don't know anybody else that depressed." The voice was that of an overly cheerful woman. His eyes looked back up at the stain. A stain in the shape of the bird. Oh Gaia preserve! It couldn't be.... "I heard you were in Detroit again. It's great that you finally decided to come back, its been a long time." ....It was. He groaned and placed one worn and battle scarred hand over his face. "But anyway, I heard you were back and I thought, damn! Damn, I said to myself, literally, I literally said damn. So after I said damn, and mind you I literally said it....in a library. Literally cursed in a library of all places. Well, said I to myself, and this part I wasn't saying literally. Well, said I, I guess if my old pal is in town again, then damnit Jo, you owe it to yourself to look him up! I said that literally, damnit Jo I said...literally. That got me a few odd looks mind you..."

"Gaia works in strange ways," he muttered to himself as he tried to explain away the horror of it all. He moved the phone away from his ear, though he could still hear some of the inane babble. He waited. A drop of water splashed down on his cheek. Oh yes, that was a bird shaped stain. Blast it. The wild ramble petered off, he put the phone back to his ear. "I'm sorry, could you repeat just that last bit, there was some static."

"Sure, no sweat. I asked if you wanted to maybe get together, rehash old times?"

"No." He hung up the phone. He lay back on the mattress. He smelled the old, musty scents. Above him the small gatherings of water again formed. They performed a slow dance as they swept in towards one another. Give and take, back and forth. The drips combined. They fell. He watched the last little bit left over. He always wondered how the rest of the drip felt about it. Abandoned? Betrayed? Jealous? Why did that bit of water never go through the plunge with its fellows? He paused....the pounding....that wasn't from the alcohol last night. It wasn't his head.....it was the door. He lifted his head slowly, aches spinning through his back and temples. He looked at the door, yep, somebody was knocking. He frowned, who the hell would visit him?

"Open the door!" The voice called loudly from the other side. His eyes again looked up at the soaring bird shaped water stain. He nearly howled in frustration. How the hell had she moved so fast?

"Gaia," he muttered as he buried his head in his hands. "Whatever I've done to piss you off, please, just let me know and I'll rectify it immediately. Just make her go away!" He waited, the knocking continued. Apparently Gaia didn't quite give a damn.

"Open the door man! I don't know about you but I could stay here all night yelling. Literally! I literally could stand here all night yelling....and pounding. I see lots of pounding in the future." He jerked his jaw upwards slightly as he considered the options. She might be bluffing...."Yelling and pounding, I'm literally standing here yelling and pounding. All night! I could be here all night! Literally! Literally here all night!" ......Then again, she might not.

"Come in blast it, it's not locked!" His voice sounded hoarse to him, he couldn't recall the last time he'd spoken in more then a short broken whisper. The door swung wide open as Jo barged in. Her heavy combat boots thumped noisily on the ground as she bounced in and slammed the door shut. She twirled around and shoved her hands on her hips, spreading out her feet to around shoulder width as she looked at him. He turned to look her over, she still looked about the same. Same tight black leggings. Same Metallica shirt and three sizes too big leather jacket. Same stupid dirty green sock cap pulled low over her wild long black hair. Same rounded, inquisitive, and overly bright face. Her sparkling dark eyes glimmered at him as she smiled inanely.

"Heya! How's it going! What? No hug for your pal Jo? What the heck man, what the heck? Ahhh forget it, I'll hug you..." she strode forward a few paces and then stopped. Her eyes bugged slightly as she retreated again. "Kaff...kaff...on second thought...maybe I'll just stay upwind of you." He couldn't help but grin, ah the glory of the stink defense. How wise the skunk was, how noble and brilliant. He bet that skunks didn't get too many unwanted guests, no, ah, the skunk... His thought were interrupted by a resuming stream of nonsense and pointless prattle. "Man, you are rank! And I'm not talking about how respected you may or may not be to the tribes. I literally mean your smell, literally. It is bad, I think I just had some hair turn gray...literally!"

"What the hell do you want Jo," he snarled as he turned back to his bed. She drifted after him, keeping her safe distance as she looked around.

"What the hell man, what the hell. Look at what you're living in! I live better then this, I mean I literally live better then this. That is really pathetic, really bloody pathetic!" He flopped down on the bed again, maybe if he just fell asleep she would go away....like a dream of nothingness forgotten upon waking........ "Good gravy, your fridge has nothing but beer and Chinese take-out! How can you live off of this," he heard her wild rummaging through the cooler, "jeez louize! What are you thinking man? If you keep eating like that and drinking as much as it looks like you are you will die. You will literally die!"

"When?" Jo looked up in surprise at him. He sat half propped up on the bed, his eyes burning into hers, a note of eagerness in his voice. She curled up her face in disgust and grabbed up the small trash can nearby. She rattled it noisily and then reached inside and pulled out a large, and quite empty, bottle of vodka.

"Look, I know what you're feeling, I was there too last time I checked. But this is just fucking sad! Look at you, I could figure out a more dignified way to curl up and die then this. What the hell is wrong with you? Get the fuck out of that bed and onto your thrice damned feet! Get up!" He shook his head at her and closed his eyes, why wouldn't she just go away? "I don't think you're listening to me! I said get up!" She hurled the vodka bottle into the trash, it exploded noisily as it crashed amongst other bottles there, he winced and placed his hands over his face. "Get up! Literally get up!!!" She hurled the trash can at him. It smashed onto his chest and sprayed broken glass and dribbled remains of alcohol over him. His eyes snapped open as he sat up suddenly. Glass flying away from him as his body grew taunt in anger

"What the hell!?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Jo as she held her hands over her mouth. "Did I go and upset the big bad crybaby. Oh no, oh jeez, whatever shall I do? Next thing I know he'll try to kill himself by drinking a lot and never washing. Help me, don't let the bad man get near me and do nothing but sit on his butt and drool at the ceiling!" His eyes narrowed as he reached down and grabbed a still intact beer bottle. With a snap of his wrist he sent it sailing through the air to crack into her skull. Jo yelped in pained surprise as she was thrown back. She curled up and held her head with a moan as he collapsed back onto his bed with a sigh. "Hey man," came her soft voice, almost sounding like it was sobbing in pain.

"Yes," he asked, suddenly feeling bad about his harsh reaction.

"I'm really, really sorry."

"Yeah, me too. It's okay."

"No it's not," her voice did sound like it was sobbing now, he was worried, he'd never heard Jo like this. "It's not all right, I did wrong....I'm so sorry!" Her voice was cracking as she stifled her cries. He looked up at her and tried to sound reassuring, he was really feeling bad now.

"Don't worry Jo. It's nothing, I overreacted, it was my fault, not yours." The beer bottle hissed through the air and smashed into his head, shattering and ripping into his flesh.

"I'm sorry I didn't come by to whip your sorry ass into shape sooner! Get the fuck up!!!" He clutched as his bleeding scalp as he snarled at her. Jo hopped up and shoved her hands on her hips as she frowned at him. "C'mon man, get up. Be a man and stand on your feet!"

"Leave, leave now!"

"What if I don't, c'mon, get the hell up and make me. This is pathetic, it's like you're turning into my grandpa or something. You are literally turning into my grandpa....the one who wets the bed....are you literally wetting the bed too?"

"Damnit Jo, get the hell out! I don't want you here!" His voice was stronger now, his face flushed in anger. Jo shrugged and turned away. But instead of leaving she walked up to the fridge and pulled out a bottle. The beer sloshed around inside the bottle as she tossed it experimentally in her hand. She looked at him meaningfully. His eyes narrowed as he watched her. "Jo, you better not..." She smirked at him and tossed the bottle again, testing the weight. 

* * *

Water dripped from the ceiling. Dozens of drops that created a small cadence upon the series of bottles and boxes scattered across the floor. To most it would have seemed a strangely bizarre clamor. But to the scarred and tattooed figure dressed in ragged black robes who sat quietly in the middle of the subterranean room it was the most elegant of music. He had twisted pipes, and adjusted drips. Placed bottles, found certain surfaces. All to create the atypical musical symphony that now surrounded him. Small, ragged ears twitched slightly as they caught a sound that was out of place. A thin and bony hand reached out and clutched a twisted staff. His arm clinked slightly, the many minor talismans braided in his coarse patchy black fur clacking together at his movements. His one remaining eye glowed a sickly green as it peered out from under his mangy coat of fur to watch the two figures coming closer.

"Kendar, Endelon. Come hither," his voice was a hissing snarl. His green eye glinted in the darkness as he used the staff to motion his two fellow sub-commanders into their spots on the grime crusted floor. Kendar growled as he sat, the dangerous war leader never seemed to care for the meetings. He pulled his coat tight around him, his baleful eyes glaring out from under the shadow of his fedora. Next to him sat the rail thin form of Endelon, the master assassin. Even in his crinos form the deadly killer was slight of build and stature. He dressed in loose black robes, under which his body was wrapped tightly with filthy black gauze. His black hair stuck wildly from his head in all directions. He smiled as he sat, though his deep blue eyes remained as unemotional as ever.

"Master Fer-guath," said Kendar with a nod of his head. "The plan proceeds as can be expected. Even now our forces swell in size, and it shall only be a mater of time before they are ready for battle."

"Unacceptable," hissed the powerful Theurge in a snarl. His needle-like fangs flashed as he bared them at the Ahroun. "The poisoning is almost complete. Soon the time of the ritual shall be upon us. We must be ready to defend the temple at all costs."

"But, the priest..."

"Is a untrustworthy fool. He has his plans and I have mine. I'll need my packs strong. I'll need them hungry for the blood of our enemies." Fer-guath sat back, his green eye seeming to burrow through all of Kendar's thoughts. The dangerous warrior shifted uncomfortably, disliking the attention. Finally Fer-guath seemed to see what he wanted and nodded, his talismans clacking together quietly. "I have spoken to the one within, he says the packs are weak, and our rise shall go unimpeded."

"So it was said last time," came the soft hiss of Endelon. He smirked as he looked over at Fer-guath, his dark blue gaze meeting the fiery green orb of the Theurge's stare.

"So it was said," agreed Fer-guath. "But lest you forget, they who stopped us last time are shattered. There is no more threat. Three are dead. One is no more. One is old and weak. One is fallen and forgotten. One was never a threat...."

"And one is strong yet, and opposes us still," growled Kendar. His yellow eyes flashed as he glanced to his leader. "We should destroy him. Allow me this honor."

"He has indeed been investigating our operations," whispered Endelon. "Perhaps it would be wise to remove him before he has time to even suspect our plans." Kendar nodded his agreement. Fer-guath paused, considering.

"It might tip our hand too soon to destroy one such as he. The bastards of Gaia might sense the danger..." Endelon smiled at the thought, Kendar chuckled slightly, his eyes flashing. Fer-guath nodded. "Yes...that frightens me not. Do as ye will. Let the blood of the foes water the plants of the city. Let them cry in terror as their champions fall. For they shall know our coming soon enough!" He waved his hand, the two others hopped to their feet and quickly departed. Eager for the blood they had been promised. Fer-guath relaxed again as he heard their footsteps fade away. His thoughts turned again to his drips. They pounded and beat around him, his tune, his victory song, his life beat. The drops splattered and cascaded down. Focusing his thoughts.

"You seem so sure of success," hissed the voice in his ear. Fer-guath's eye snapped open. It narrowed in surprise as he realized none of his guardian spirits had so much as uttered a minor warning. Then he felt the smooth and warm hand brush along the back of his neck. His ears twitched in fear as he realized who had to be the cause of his security breach.

"I know of what I and my pack are capable," said Fer-guath slowly. His snarling voice clipped back, subdued. The warm hands stroked upwards, dancing along his ears. The delicate fingers thrummed lightly over the highly sensitive membranes.

"I too know what you are capable of my dear friend." The speaker leaned in, warm breath hissed gently across Fer-guath's cheek. "I remember when you first showed me what you could do. It was a night of revelation for me. I suspect it was even more so for yourself." Fer-guath nodded at the memory, the fingers slid softly down his neck again, and proceeded down his back. "You speak of your plans, as though they are yours to dictate and control."

"I only tell them what they need to hear. I of course mean no disrespect by..." Fer-guath suddenly stiffened as he felt the sharp poke of claws against his back. In line with his heart. His eye widened in surprise as the claws pressed slightly inward. The fingers were cold and hard now.

"My dear, dear friend. So skillful, so wise, so foolish." Fer-guath knew pain. He would not ever again refer to the plans as his. They were the masters, as was he, as was his caern, as would be Detroit. 

* * *

"Okay, you got me up and going. Now what the hell is this all about?"

"Up and going?" Jo turned around and glanced at the dingy bar he had brought her to. "This damn place was only across the street....literally!" The bar was dark as heck, and stunk almost as much as his apartment. She frowned as she peeled her elbow out of a sticky patch of dried something on the table. He sat slouched on the chair, breathing in the stale beer and vomit smells. Letting their pungent and flavorless stench fill his throat. Behind him the coolant unit rumbled away, its heavy clanking beating in tune to the pounding of his head.

"Well maybe my head hurts too much to go waltzing all over the damn city," he growled. He could still smell the beer that had coated him only a few minutes ago. Jo cocked her head as she looked him up and down. He had pulled on some jeans and sneakers, and had thrown on a dirty and stained trench coat. He glared back at her, his bloodshot eyes hardly focusing on her, or anything else. His wild red hair sprayed around his face.

"Aw damn man, I'm sorry. If I'd known how bad you were taking things..." Jo shook her head and leaned forward. "You should have called." He looked over at her, his face grim. She sighed and leaned back. "I'm sorry, I really am. But it wasn't your fault....it wasn't anybody's fault."

"I could have done something. I should have seen it coming...sensed it coming." His face twitched, jerking his jaw up. He reached up and unconsciously rubbed a pair of pale white scars that ran across his neck, curving and looking like two crescent moons with their points touching. A mirror reflection of all his pains. He turned away from her again. He watched the slow ticking of the clock set above the bar. Its black hands slowly twisting and crawling across the round surface. Clutching time. Crawling away with it. Stealing yet another second, another minute, another hour of his life. He didn't miss the time, it was all anguish anyway. Let the clock steal it, let it take it from him and drain him dry. Let it drain him until he had no more. Leave him empty. Empty and at peace.

"Well....I came to ask you for help," Jo finally said quietly.

"I know, it's all you ever come to see me for. I remember the last time you came to me for help," his hand again brushed across the scars.

"Damnit! Don't try to sell me short. If I'd known...if I....aw damn. You need to let it go. Just forget about it all." Jo's voice died in her throat as his head snapped around to look at her, his eyes flashing dangerously. She quickly raised her hands and slid back from him. Yet his anger died away as quickly as it had started. He didn't have the energy to stay angry....or to do much else. It just didn't matter to him anymore. Jo slowly relaxed and leaned back in towards him. "It's Dominic, he sent me."

"Dominic?" He chuckled slightly under his breath. "Dominic sent you to ask for my help," the laugh grew slightly stronger, if more disturbing. Jo winced at the sound, her eyes grew worried. Finally his laughter died away into a gentle hiss and shake of his head. He looked away again, his face becoming slack. Jo waited a few more moments.

"There's trouble. Big trouble. It's the Spirals, they're up to something. The problem is that Dominic just doesn't have the people to do something about it. All of us are pulling triple shifts just trying to keep up, we need all the help we can get." Jo reached out and placed one of her slim and pale hands on top of his scarred and worn fist. He glanced away from it, not caring for any connection. "We need the type of help you can give. C'mon man, it'll at least give you something to do," she smiled wanly at the poor joke and squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"From the cries of desperation comes an answer of salvation, and it is damnation." Her eyes danced about in confusion as he pulled his hand away from her.

"What's that supposed to mean, I'm not good with all your poetry and other esoteric rambling y'know." She smirked and chuckled. "Could I get a plain English version?"

"Yes.....No." He stood up from the table and turned away from her. "Just go away Jo. Just leave me alone..." his voice wandered off as he hunched down again. Finally with a slight grunt he shuffled towards the door. Jo sat in her stool and watched him go. She sighed and sank her head into her hands.

"I'm sorry......" 

* * *

He chuckled to himself as he slowly walked around the circle and lit the candles. His bare feet padded silently over the rough hewn rock from which the room was carved. The thick and ungainly wax of the candles had long ago melted down their length and across the floor, almost giving the black tallow the appearance of being attached to the ground. The wicks burst easily into flame as he passed his small torch over them, their flickering and sputtering light causing the shadows to dance around him. He grinned as he lit the last candle, he promptly snuffed the torch in a nearby mold coated bucket of brackish black water. The wavering flames of the candles illuminated the scrawled and twisted runes that lined the inner edges of the circle. He paused and looked up as he sensed a presence grow near. The master came.

"I hope I didn't disturb you," said the master in a soft whisper as he neared the chamber. His dark shape slowly flitted up to the entrance into the room, but stopped short of entering the pale circle of light cast by the candles. "I wouldn't wish to have disturbed this very important moment."

"No, no concerns," chuckled the figure as he kneeled down in front of the circle. "I was just preparing. Yet to wait still, need the sacrificial blood. The blood is needed."

"Yes, isn't it always," agreed the master. They both shifted slightly at the sounds of heavy footfalls approaching. Two men walked into the room, neither of them seeming to notice the shadowy shape of the master. They each bowed slightly to the kneeling man as they held out two silver goblets, each sloshing slightly from the thick red liquid filling them.

"We bring for you the blood-o," hissed the smaller of the pair, his inflection seeming a bizarre lilting dance between a man's and woman's voice.

"Yes," agreed his large and bulky companion in a deep growl.

"Good, good, good," chuckled the man as he took the chalices from them. "Send my thanks to the Colonel." The two men nodded and quickly backed out of the chamber. The man turned and slowly poured the blood in the chalices out onto the circle. The blood seemed to have a mind of its own as it flowed and seeped along the designs and runes. The man chanted softly to himself as he watched the blood spread to seep into every last marking of the circle. He smiled as the symbols seemed to start to twist and shape of their own accord. The runes churning and moving and pulling amongst themselves. Slowly reshaping the circle to appear as though the blood was corkscrewing towards the center. As though caught in a maddened and deadly spiral 

* * *

Dominic 'Rends-the-Darkness' Winford leaned against a graffiti covered brick wall and watched the dark night streets around him. His shortly trimmed black hair and beard were tinged with small shots of silver. His quiet dark eyes had a few wrinkles encroaching upon the otherwise firm and well tanned skin of his strong face. He wore a black business suit and a knee length black overcoat. He shifted slightly and muttered at the ache the cold was generating in his knees and hands. He frowned, there had been a time when he would have been able to stay in this position all night and all day and then some before feeling any discomfort. But that was a few years ago, back when he had been young and full of inner fire. Young, he thought with a bitter sigh, make that just younger.

Younger like those pups he was having to bring with him on these missions now. He'd swear none of them had even seen twenty winters yet. He glanced over at the innocuous tan Honda parked near the corner of the small park he was watching. He could just make out the two shapes inside, sitting quietly and trying to stay awake. He turned to look deeper into the park, to the lone bum curled up on a bench and covered with a few newspapers. Kids. Marn was giving him snot-nosed youths to do a job that men should be taking care of. He shook his head and sighed, kids and old men. That's all he had now. He glanced up suddenly as a small dark shape slipped from within a nearby alley and walked up to him.

"Josephine," he greeted quietly, his voice still strong and commanding after all these years.

"Dominic," Jo answered with a grin. "How are things going? Well? Are they going well? I'd rather they were going well then bad. Or is it bad? Bad that they'd go bad. Bad is bad y'know. Literally, literally bad." He rolled his eyes and waited. She always wore herself down again sooner or later. "But in any case I guess things can't be too bad, that's good. Of course you look bad, in a good way, so that means you'll do good, but not in a bad way." Jo finally stopped, Dominic glanced over at her.

"And?"

"And what," asked Jo innocently.

"And will he be showing up, I agreed to his request after all!"

"Oh, yeah....that." Jo shoved her hands into her large leather jacket and rocked back and forth on her feet for a few moments. "Weeeeell. He was really busy. Sorta deluged by work, literally! He had so much going that he just couldn't get himself away from what he's doing. Literally couldn't get away from it all....you could say it's consuming him. His work that is."

"Fine," snarled Dominic as he turned back to watching the street. "I didn't really want his help anyway, however much he wished to give it." He paused, his eyes growing darker as he glanced back at Jo. She smiled innocently back at him, Dominic frowned. "Why did he ask to help if he couldn't get away from his work?"

"Oh," Jo shrugged and grinned, "you know how stuff can just jump up on you. Drowning in troubles and all that. Literally drowning...." Her voice seemed to die away at the word. She grew pensive then, and quiet as well. Dominic glanced at her, curious what was troubling his friend. But he was suddenly distracted by the dull rumble of a truck's engine. He looked up as headlights briefly flashed across him. At last, the shipment he had been waiting for! The large 16 wheeler roared down the back road and turned onto the large snow coated parking lot. Dominic glanced over at Jo and grinned darkly.

"You want in?" She quickly shook her head and stepped back towards the concealing shelter of the alley. Dominic smiled wider at her as he turned and started to walk across the street. The wait was over. 


	2. The Breeze of War

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter 2: The Breeze of War

"Dominic is damn sexy," whispered "Leona" Throatripper as she eyed the dark shape of the Shadow Lord. Charlie glanced over at his packmate and rolled his eyes. She'd been commenting on that fact for about the last hour.

"You're in heat again," he sighed to her. She smirked and tossed her head slightly. Her long mane of blonde hair fell away from her strong and wildly arousing face. She grinned, her teeth bright and sharp seeming. Charlie tried not to pay attention to her obvious charms. He knew the growl inside him had far more to do with his wolf nature then anything about his feelings.

"Is that such a terrible thing," she grinned wider. He was unsure whether the smile aroused more passion in him. Or fear. He tried to shake off the feeling and smirked back at her.

"Hmph, I just don't think he'd be interested. He's probably a stickler for that whole, Garou shall not mate with Garou rule." Leona growled slightly at the comment.

"Who said I wished to make pups with him." She leaned back and watched the dark and gloomy visage of the famous Philodox. "Maybe I just want to lie with him a little." Her tongue slipped a little out of her mouth at the words as she brushed it along her teeth. Charlie again wished he'd been lucky enough to get Snapback's position, or even Sees-Like-An-Eagle's. At the thought of his other packmates Charlie peered over at the dark park. Snapback lay upon a bench, appearing like a dozing beggar. The skilled Ahroun had joined their relatively inexperienced pack only because no others would take him. This was because he was metis, a Garou born of two other Garou. As a result he had been terribly deformed upon his birth, like all metis. In Snapback's case it was his large hunchback that left him constantly bent forward slightly. "Just because you humans deny your urges doesn't mean we all should," growled Leona, not willing to let the argument go.

"I ain't exactly human y'know. I'm about as normal a human as you are a wolf." Charlie grinned smugly at his retort. It always made him feel better when he proved himself more skilled at anything then his other packmates. After all, even Sees-Like-An-Eagle who was only twelve years old tended to show Charlie up on a regular basis. If only the little snot wasn't so clever all the time. Leona of course had her whole wolfish nature to fall back on, and even Snapback seemed to be more accepted. After all, at least he had been born into Garou society and hadn't had to learn it so suddenly. Charlie sighed, then again, he had been a bit of a loser his whole life. Why should becoming a foot soldier in the service of mother earth make him any better? 

"Aww, shut it." Leona glared towards him, locking her eyes with his. As was usual Charlie glanced away before too long. Leona chuckled as he yet again submitted to her dominance. Charlie cursed silently to himself. Lousy lupus, just cause she was born a wolf didn't mean she knew any more about being a Garou then he did! Besides, this was her first real hunt too, she didn't have any more claim to battle experience. He'd show her, he'd show them all. He'd prove he could do it! He stared out the window glumly, feeling more then a little depressed. He paused as he spotted a small figure step out of the shadows and start to speak with Dominic.

"Hey, who's that?"

"Who?" Leona glanced up and eyed the slim dark haired woman. "Oh, that's Josephine Corven. She was one of the great heroes who descended into The Maw to destroy the Black Crystal." Charlie nodded slightly in surprise. Of course, he felt stupid now. He glanced over at the smug grin on Leona's face and quickly looked away again. He had heard the story often enough, he should have known. The tales back about eight years ago when the forces of the Wyrm had swelled strong and powerful in the city of Detroit. Charlie tried to recall all of the eight brave warriors who had walked into the black heart of the Wyrm's power, and who had won a great victory in the name of Gaia. 

If he recalled correctly Josephine Corven had been the scout who had first learned about the danger. She had also been the only non-Garou of the group. For she was a Corax, one of the werecrows. Able to transform between human and bird as easily as Charlie could man and wolf. He smiled as he remembered the stories that were told around the campfires whenever one of the heroes was mentioned. Wasn't there a poem about it? He tried to recall it too, but then lost his train of thought as his eyes suddenly widened. He watched the large black truck pull around the corner and down the street.

"Hey Leona, it's on! It's going down!" She glanced up at his surprised shout as the truck pulled into the park. Dominic slowly strolled across the street towards the rig. Charlie slipped open his door and stepped out into the chill night air. The breeze ruffled his long brown hair as he began to follow Dominic in. Behind him he heard a soft growl from Leona as she followed. The cab of the truck had opened and both the driver and his passenger had exited. Both men wore black leather jackets and jeans, both of them were built like professional football players. Neither of them seemed to care about the three people approaching. Instead they turned their attention to walking to the back of the rig and starting to unlock the trailer door.

"Hey boys, how's it going," said Dominic in his usual cold sneer. The two turned around as Dominic flashed them the badge in his wallet. "I'm Agent Winford," he gestured to Leona and Charlie, "these are my associates. If you don't mind I'd like to ask your business here." The two truckers glanced at each other and then back at Dominic.

"We're with Allied Chemical and Plastics," one of them grudgingly admitted. 

"Of course," sneered Dominic. He turned and motioned to the park, and most especially the large frozen lake that sat serenely in the center of it. "I'm sure you just came to take in the beauty of nature." Charlie grinned to himself, here it comes, time to kick a few polluting punkasses. Next to him Leona tensed, also allowing a small smile onto her lips. Dominic had discovered that there had been a spate of illegal dumping at this sight, and had been allowed to take a pack out and deal with it. Charlie waited expectantly, eager to show the famous Shadow Lord Philodox exactly what he could do.

"Look man," said the driver nervously, "I think there's been a mistake."

"No mistake, open the truck," barked Dominic. The driver turned to comply, only at the last second did Charlie realize the man was grinning. With a steel snarl the trailer door swished up to reveal the dark interior of the truck. Charlie tensed as he spotted the swarm of dark figures lurking within, their eyes narrowed as they raised their guns. Dominic simply laughed, his commands simple. "Take them down!" Charlie growled and fell into the inner primal call of his being, in moments his body was changing, transforming into a creature of unimaginable speed and power. His perceptions shifted as he grew, growing sharper and more defined. The truckers appeared less menacing now, their height of little matter to his eight and a half foot frame. Thick brown hair sprouted from his skin as his clothes shredded away. His hands curled into massive paws, his face elongated into a ferocious muzzle. He howled, his warm breath misting around his wide jaw and gleaming fangs.

The dark shapes inside the truck began to fire, their shotguns sounding sharp and loud in the relative silence of the park. Charlie leaped back, surprised at the sudden attack, his powerful muscles easily carrying him away from the wild fire of the gunmen. Even before he could congratulate himself on his escape he was cursing his cowardice. Both Dominic and Leona had leaped straight into the truck, and even now he could see them tearing into their foes. He hissed in annoyance as he again charged. He saw the truck driver turning to run, Charlie growled as he twisted and pounded after the lone coward. His claws flexed as he prepared to leap for his foe. But then it was too late, a second large form sprang from nowhere to rip the driver's head from his body. Charlie cursed and slid to a stop in the snow as he looked at the massive hunchbacked form of Snapback. The metis Ahroun grinned at Charlie with rows of razor sharp teeth as he pointed back to the truck.

"Fight that way. Stupid!" Snapback seemed to somehow manage a sneer with his muzzle. Charlie growled but ignored the jab as he spun back towards the truck and rushed to help. But yet again he was too late. There was a terrible scream as a large man leapt from the trailer and collapsed into the snow. No sooner had he scrambled to his hands and knees then a massive tawny furred wolf sprang from within and slammed into him. The wolf's gaping maw clamped easily around the man's neck and ripped it apart as though it were naught but tissue paper. Blood sprayed from the gruesome wound and coated the snow around him. Charlie paused, rather disturbed by the whole sight. Leona added to his unease by simply tilting her head back and swallowing the torn remains of the throat whole.

"That it?" Charlie managed to slur in surprise, his yellow gleaming eyes widening in shock at the brutal speed of Dominic and Leona. He walked over and peered into the darkness of the inside of the truck. Snapback thudded up next to him, his fangs barred and ready for action. The bodies of the other five men lay scattered about within, blood leaking from their terrible and brutal wounds. Dominic stood quietly amongst the carnage, one of his black gloved hands reached up and gently brushed some of his dark hair back into place. Charlie's eyes widened yet further, had Dominic entered combat without even bothering to shift? The dark eyes of the elder glanced over at the three of them standing outside, there was a brief flash of white as he grinned slightly

"You did well, I am proud of you all," he turned to look at the collection of large steel drums that filled the back of the truck. "Now let us see what present these scum planned for Gaia." Dominic strode forward and grabbed up one of the fallen shotguns laying on the floor. He grunted slightly as he slammed the stock of the gun against the rim of the yellow barrel, breaking the seal. He dropped the gun as his fingers dug into the gap and pried it open. The lid opened with a hollow pop. Almost immediately Charlie noticed Dominic's back tense. The young Garou shuffled nervously, wondering what was wrong. Leona didn't bother with such quiet worry and instead growled noisily, Charlie easily understanding her wolf-speak.

"Lord, what's wrong?" Dominic turned to glance over at them and shoved the barrel over. Charlie and Leona both jumped in nervous surprise, fully expecting a foul chemical to come spraying towards them. Instead there was only a vacant clang as the drum fell over. Empty. Charlie stared in dumbfounded confusion at the barrel even as a large black raven swung by overhead, cawing into the night. Its cackling call seeming to chill the cold air even more. Dominic turned and sprang out of the truck to land softly on the snowy ground. His eyes darted around as he sniffed the air, a low growl started in the back of his throat. Charlie spun around, just now spotting the dark shadows that seemed to creep out of the alleys and hidden alcoves of the street. Dominic quickly motioned the young pups back as he hissed the words that Charlie had already feared.

"It's a trap!"

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The haunting cry echoed across the street, issuing from the snarling mouths of the ancient foe. Sinking like shards of frozen terror into the hearts of the Chosen of Gaia. Dominic spun and pointed back towards the open park near the lake, and beyond it the concealing safety of the trees. Leona turned and took off, her sleek tawny body dashing over the snow like a fragment of daylight fleeing the coming of night. Snapback growled and also started a slow retreat, his hackles raised at the indignity of it all. Charlie stood frozen in fear, his mind attempting to come to terms with the dark shapes that even now dashed across the street and into the parking lot. He watched as they shifted, their bodies growing into large and lanky beasts covered with spotty patches of coarse gray fur. He felt his legs lock in terror as the cry or the whippoorwill again hissed through the night. His eyes locked in fear upon the flashing teeth and shining claws.

"Fool!" Dominic's hand tugged on Charlie's massive forepaw, he glanced down in surprise into the angered face of the elder. "Move your sorry carcass! Now!!!" Snapped back into the reality of the situation Charlie spun and ran after the others. The chill wind whistled across his senses as he ran, behind him he heard the crunching of the snow as Dominic followed. Behind that...death came for them.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The cry seemed to give him a new strength, and a new speed 

* * *

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The cry seemed to give him a new strength, and a new speed. Stinkface slipped forward through the dark trees of the park. He could hear the cries of the Garou fools whom they had caught in their trap. The others would be driving them this way, right into the killing zone. Around him six other Black Spiral Dancers lurked in the darkness. Both Rockcrusher and Treeshaker crouched near him, their fanged maws split in eager grins. Stinkface glanced yet again at the lone figure who lead them. Standing quietly motionless, his black robe hiding him from easy view, Endelon watched the fleeing Garou through the trees. His thin mouth remained twisted up in a small smile, his dark blue eyes watched with dispassion as the figures fled the first wave of the attack.

"They wait in the trees! It's a trap! Run to the west!" The cries broke through the stillness, shaking Stinkface from his careful watching of their coming foes. He stood up in surprise. Someone had just warned the fools! The trap had been ruined! But how? Stinkface looked around helplessly, nearby him the others did as well. Their baleful red gleaming eyes searching the area for the source of that accursed yell. Endelon had remained unmoving, but now he slowly turned to his left towards Stinkface. The Dancer paused in fear, worried that Endelon thought he had done it. But then the assassin's eyes lifted upward, into the trees. Stinkface looked up as well, and spotted their ambush's betrayer. Perched in the tree was a young boy, his features frightened as he realized he had been spotted. He turned and sprang from the massive oak, even as he fell his body shifted and grew. Bulking up into the bestial crinos war-form he slammed hard into the thick snow below. Immediately the young werewolf was up, and desperately running for his friends.

"Strike now," came Endelon's soft command. Though it was little more then a whisper it seemed to clearly carry to all of the eager Dancers. Stinkface growled as he lunged forward, his gaze burning red as he eyed the fleeing back of the youngster in front of him. The youth ran desperately along the edge of the frozen lake, his feet kicking up white tufts of snow as he sprinted. Across the way Stinkface spotted the others shifting course, actually running out onto the frozen over lake. They ran now, trying to catch up with their friend and evade the twin pincers of Dancers that were attempting to crush them between each other. A dark shadow suddenly rushed past Stinkface, its black robes billowing around it as it ran. The ragged black bandages that wrapped his body fluttered as Endelon sprinted over the snow like an angel of death.

Stinkface watched as Endelon reached under his robes and pulled out the twin klaives he hid there. The two silvered knives glinted in the moonlight as they twirled into easy readiness in Endelon's hands. Green fire seemed to leap and dance around them, playing along the madly etched runes scratched onto the blackened surface around the shining sharp edges. The young Garou sensed the danger. He howled as he ran even faster, his legs a blur as he ran for his life. He suddenly turned, cutting sharply onto the lake and rushing for his friends. Endelon and the others followed. Stinkface snarled as he tried to catch up, eager to spill the blood of his foes. The young Garou twisted his head to glance back, eyeing his nearing pursuers with fear. Endelon's face was an emotionless smile as he spun to a stop and hurled one of his klaives towards the fool. The knife hissed through the air, leaving behind it a flashing trail of green balefire. There was a slurping thud and a howl of agony as it slammed into the youth's eye-socket and cast him back onto the ice, to lie unmoving. 

* * *

"Noooo!" Charlie howled in disbelief as he watched Sees-Like-An-Eagle fall. The brave kid had warned them, told them to change course to avoid the waiting Dancers in the forest. They had quickly followed Dominic's command and turned to sprint across the wide ice coated lake. From the tree line had come the small silver form of Sees-Like-An-Eagle, behind him the dark stream of the Dancers. Charlie had watched his young friend run for his life, helpless to do anything about it. But the kid had always been fast, he had run like the wind and outdistanced all of his pursuers, only one of them even able to stay close. They had almost reached each other, they had almost been able to join up and get out of this madhouse. The images of a trail of green fire, and of a silvered gleam sinking into a red stained sliver furred face flashed repeatedly across Charlie's eyes.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The cry screeched from the two swarms of Dancers as they closed in around their prey. Smelling the fresh tang of blood on the wind. The wild call filling the air with a madness. The mangy black shapes looking to all the world like two predatory swarms of deadly birds. Red eyes flashed and sparked as they closed in, cutting off escape as their howls reverberated within his skull. Charlie felt the mindless rage of loss build within him. The black fur around his mouth curled back as he snarled and prepared to wait and face his foes. But suddenly a voice cut through the wild calls as a figure leaped past him and put itself between him and the charging horde.

"Go! Head to the trees!" Charlie spun to look at Dominic. The Shadow Lord had turned to watch the two groups as they rushed in for them. He pulled open one side of his black coat, it billowed in the breeze as his hand slipped under it and drew forth his klaive. The wind hissed around him as Dominic held up the knife formed of a sharpened bone. A simple leather cord was wrapped tight around the hilt. The curved blade bore two ancient runes, one upon either side. Charlie immediately recognized them as the writing style of the Silver Litany, an ancient form of lettering known to the Garou. The runes were dual symbols that commanded Gaia's chosen in their war. Duty...and Death. 

Dominic crouched slightly, his black clothing seeming to fade away into so much smoke as his body bulged outwards. Black fur sprouted across his frame, two stripes of silver streaked away and down his back from his ears. Another patch of silvery-white decorated his breast. Powerful muscles tensed under the dark fur as the aged warrior readied to hold back the flock of Dancers so that the others could escape. Charlie looked the other way, he could see that both Snapback and Leona were still running for their lives, though now Leona glanced back, as if sensing something amiss. Charlie locked eyes with her for an instant, and then turned away. Dominic glanced at him in surprise.

"Leave boy."

"I leave, when you leave," snarled Charlie as he crouched down and readied for combat. Dominic flashed his fangs at the youth, whether in amusement or annoyance Charlie was unsure. But he knew that this felt right. He looked over and suddenly tensed, his eyes growing wide in pained fear. "No..." The word hissed out of him, things were worse then he had thought, his packmate wasn't dead. Across the ice Sees-Like-An-Eagle had started to weakly crawl towards them, blood streaming from his wound as he looked up in anguished terror to Charlie. Behind him the dark shapes of the Dancers howled in glee as they bore down on him. Dominic spun at Charlie's cry, his eyes also widening in surprise at the spectacle. He gripped his klaive in his hands, the rune of duty flashed coldly across his face as he began to move. 

"Let's get him," growled Dominic as he charged forward. Charlie quickly fell in behind him, the pair now in a strange race with the dark robed figure who had dropped their comrade. Sees-Like-An-Eagle looked up weakly as they rushed towards him. His face twisted in pain around the dark hilt of the blade embedded into his eye. Charlie and Dominic rushed towards him. "Get him, then get out," howled Dominic as he suddenly sprang forward, launching himself over Sees-Like-An-Eagle and dropping down between the two pups and the charging Dancers. The thin one in the lead drew himself up short, his flashing blue eyes narrowing as he smiled at the large Shadow Lord. Dominic fell into a crouched battle stance, and bared his fangs. Both of them raised their knives menacingly.

Charlie growled as he reached down to grab his wounded packmate. He heaved Sees-Like-An-Eagle up and cradled him in his arms. He never would have imagined the boy's stout crinos form could be so light. He looked down at the slack silver furred face, and at the stream of red gushing out from around the blackened handle of the klaive. Charlie looked up in surprise as a powerful roar split the night. Dominic and the Dancer had had enough of waiting! An arc of green fire slashed through the black night, it came to an abrupt stop amidst a shower of sparks as Dominic deftly blocked the blow with his own klaive. Charlie gasped in awe at the speed and skill of the great warrior. But then he forced himself to turn away and run back towards the others. He could faintly see Leona waiting anxiously at the distant tree line, silently urging him and Dominic to her.

The robes of the Dancer seemed to swirl around him as he ducked and spun away from Dominic's return slash. Dominic quickly reversed his attack and cut down into the robe, but he had been mislead by the billowing garment and his strike hit nowhere near his opponent. Dominic growled in pain as an excruciating gash was opened up on his unprotected flank. He felt the blade cut deep, spitting its baleful green fires to scorch his insides. He twisted and moved back, trying to get more room to fight with. The Dancer's blade hissed and snapped through the darkness, eerie green tracks of flame crackling through the night as he pressed his advantage. He pushed in close, his twirling and deceiving style only aided by the tight quarters. Dominic howled in anger, his klaive locked blades suddenly with his opponent's, at the same instant his powerful clawed hand raked out and tore into the Dancer's throat. Blood sprayed from the wound as the dark robed shape quickly staggered away.

Dominic growled in victory, but he had no time to follow up and finish the robed creature. Two more Dancers were closing in now, as one they sprang for him. The Shadow Lord twisted and ducked under their wild leaps. His blade slashed in a brutal overhead arc that gutted one of the pair. The black furred beast yelped in pain as he crashed onto the icy covering of the lake. He curled up and clutched at his bloody abdomen. Dominic spun around and leaped towards the back of the second. Even as the Dancer started to regain his feet Dominic's clawed hand wrapped tightly around his throat. Dominic pulled back harshly as he rammed his klaive deep into the shocked Dancer's back. Ribs splintered and snapped as Dominic drove his hand deep into the wound till his blade ruptured the Dancer's heart. He quickly spun the corpse around and hurled it towards the other onrushing Dancers as he once more ran towards the remote safety of the trees.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the sudden rush of footfalls. Behind came the robed figure, moving frighteningly quickly across the ice. Charlie was weighed down by his packmate's limp body, and had never been the quickest of runners to begin with. He cursed in frustration as he turned around and prepared to meet the charge. Their was a flutter of black robes and tattered bandages as the spindly Dancer sprang up and sailed over Charlie's head. Charlie spun around in startled surprise, baring his fangs as he lashed his head forward to snap at the Dancer. But the spindly figure moved too quickly, his head weaving sharply to the side to avoid the bite. However his klaive hissed upwards, the blade biting deeply into Charlie's throat and tearing across his chin and across his face. 

He howled in pain as he was tossed back. The fires of the blade burning at his flesh and fur, the silver of the blade burning at his very soul. Charlie felt Sees-Like-An-Eagle fall from his grasp as his hands involuntarily snapped up to clutch at his burning face. Charlie growled, forcing his anger up to swell over his pain and block it from his cares. He forced his pain laced eyes to open as he pushed himself back to his feet. The Dancer chuckled at him as he stood over Sees-Like-An-Eagle. He crouched and quickly grabbed his second klaive, jerking it brutally from Sees-Like-An-Eagle's eye-socket. The young pup managed one brief bark of pain before the Dancer's first blade hissed out and slashed his throat apart. Charlie roared in pure anger as he watched his packmate crumple lifelessly upon the ice.

He sprang forward, his claws lashing and hissing through the air as he unloaded in a wild torrent of attacks upon the Dancer. The black robed shape seemed to twist and turn before him like a scrap of cloth on the wind. Charlie's anger only increased as he failed to connect with his hated foe. He felt as though more then just blood coursed through his veins, it felt like pure liquid anger was powering each of his swings. His arms seemed almost a blur of movement as they flailed madly. His claws glinting wickedly as they cut through the air. But the Dancer was too quick, his movements were unpredictable perfection, he was always never where Charlie struck. Matched arcs of fire suddenly streaked through the air and Charlie felt his gut erupt in pain as twin cuts tore through his belly.

Charlie bellowed in rage as he raised both his arms over his head and struck down towards the Dancer with all of his might. But once again the billowing black robe seemed to dance away effortlessly. Charlie's arms smashed down hard onto the ice, shattering it apart and plunging his hands into the freezing water below. Pin pricks of pain lanced through his hands, frozen shards of torment. Fiery bands of agony traced across his belly, and his face was a mask of anguish. Charlie looked up as the Dancer sprang in again, his blades both streaking straight in towards Charlie's eyes. 

"No!" With that single bellow Dominic crashed down on the ice between them, his blade twisting in his hand as he locked it tightly with the guards of both of the onrushing klaives. The Dancer snarled in annoyance as he twisted his weapons free. He shoved Dominic's weapon out wide with one as his second blade hissed in towards the Shadow Lord's side. Charlie sprang forward, his claws slashing at the Dancer's arm. The black robed figure howled in pain as Charlie's claws gouged deep into his forearm. He sprang back suddenly, his robes snapping around him as he flew back a dozen yards to land lightly on the icy coating of the lake.

Charlie was suddenly shoved back by Dominic as the Shadow Lord spun around to face the charging rush of more of them. Dominic's arm lashed out as he tore his claws into the shoulder of one of the Dancers. With a contemptuous push Dominic sent the Dancer off balance. The Black Spiral's feet twisted and turned under him as he lost his balance and sprawled onto the ice to slide away helplessly. Dominic quickly cut the next one with his klaive, his blade biting deep into an artery and causing the Dancer to howl in fear as blood began spurting madly from the wound. Charlie started to stagger to his feet when he caught sight of another problem. Apparently the ice covering the lake couldn't cope with the combined weight of a dozen nine foot plus angry werewolves leaping and battling atop it. Sharp and jagged cracks were quickly spreading out from the hole he had smashed into the ice.

The Dancers spotted the danger and quickly halted their rush, scampering back from the dangerously cracked sections. Dominic looked down at the ice and cursed. There was a resounding splintering crack as the ice gave way beneath them. Charlie felt the ice he had been upon tilt crazily, tossing him off it to smash down hard on another section. It crumbled almost instantly, fragmenting into dozens of tiny pieces. Charlie was plunged down into the dark frozen depths of the lake. 

* * *

Jo watched the battle as she circled overhead. Her black wings twisted as she glided along upon the wind, her thoughts focused on her friends below. Things had at first looked good. She had tried to give Dominic a bit of warning when she first spotted the trap closing in, her warning caw had prevented them from being trapped inside the truck. Then one of them had averted the disaster of them running straight into a second ambush. But then things had gone all wrong. The youngest had been felled by one of the Dancer's klaives and then Dominic had decided to go all stupidly heroic and try to rescue him.

One of the pups had followed him in, both had become entangled in a brutal clash of teeth and claws. The other two pack members had made it to the trees, and after a minor argument had decided to follow Dominic's last order and run for it. As for Dominic and the pup, well, Jo could have told them a ice coated lake was a treacherous place to fight. Literally treacherous. The ice had seemed to have given up on them as it shattered and sent them plunging into the dark depths.

Jo watched as the rest of the lake's icy coating broke down and splintered apart. The Black Spiral Dancers quickly retreated before the crumbling surface. Her dark eyes scanned the darker waters and the bobbing chunks of ice. The Spirals were starting to collect themselves and were also starting to look around for their prey. Suddenly the icy water sprayed upwards as four figures leaped out of the freezing black water to land upon the shore. Four identical images of Dominic snarled at the Dancers, then laughed in mockery as they split up and ran in four separate directions.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The angry cry of the Dancers split the chill night air as they dashed after the fleeing form of Dominic. The Dancers splitting up into various groups, each hunting after one of the multiple Dominics. Their snarling shapes bounded off into the woods, snapping and growling as they chased their prey. Jo chuckled to herself as she kept circling, you'd have thought they'd have remembered the pup... She grinned as two bedraggled shapes pulled themselves out of the water and onto the far shore from where the other Dominics had been. Dominic's arm supported the sagging shape of the pup who had reverted to his natural homid state. Dominic quickly sprinted away from the lake, charging past the truck and back out into the city. Distancing himself from the enraged Dancers as he rushed into a nearby alley. Jo quickly banked downwards and swept in after him.

She arrived in the alley even as Dominic shifted back to his own homid form. His heavy coat and black clothes seemed to simply appear out of thin air around him as his body shrunk down, and his features returned to that of a normal human. Dominic sagged against the wall of the alley, his face was pale and sunken as his breath hissed between his clenched teeth. Weakly drooping on the ground was the pup, he wore only the tattered remains of his jeans. He shivered slightly, still soaked to the bone from his dunking, blood leaking profusely from a pair of cuts on his belly and a garish cut across his face and throat. Jo winced as she dropped from the sky, transforming into her human state as she fell. She landed lightly and looked at the pair of them.

"How are you guys doing?" The pup looked up bleakly at her, his lips already colored with an unhealthy bluish tinge. Dominic glanced at her and smiled thinly. "Man, you guys got ripped up. Literally, literally you were ripped up."

"Where're the Dancers," hissed Dominic as he stood up straight. Jo noticed the stiffness to his movements, and noted how he kept his hand pressed in tight against his left side.

"They chased off after those fake images you made of yourself, but I don't think it will fool them long. What the hell are you two going to do now?" Dominic looked down at the pup and shook his head.

"I don't think we can make much of a run for it, Charlie's too hurt. And fighting them won't be an option. We need a place to hole up for the rest of the night, somewhere to recover and rest." He looked over at her meaningfully, she nodded.

"We better get moving now, c'mon!" She scampered past them and ran up to the far end of the alley. Dominic leaned down and dragged Charlie to his feet. He scowled as he looked at the pup. He pulled open his coat and quickly slid it off. Jo again noted the careful stiffness of his motions despite his speed. She frowned.

"Here, put this on," snapped Dominic as he slung it around Charlie's shoulders. The pup nodded in thanks as he pulled it tighter about him to hide his disheveled appearance and nasty wounds. Jo tapped her foot impatiently as she waited at the far end of the alley. Dominic grabbed Charlie with his right arm and half supported and half dragged the young man along as he hastened to join her.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The cry was distant. But it was a cry of anger. Dominic's ruse had been discovered.

"Shit," gasped Jo as she turned and rushed along. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." She quickly rushed across the nearly deserted street and scampered into another alley. Behind her Dominic doggedly kept pace with her, his face ashen pale and grim as he listened to the distant cries that were now coming closer again. "Shit, shit, oh shit, shitty shit, shit in a shitbag, we are in so much shit, we're literally in shit!"

"Josephine, calm down," growled Dominic. "You aren't allowed the luxury of losing it. Is that understood?"

"Losing it," muttered Jo as she turned them down the next sidewalk they passed and quickly ushered them up the street. "Why the hell should I be losing anything. I'm as collected as a tax-man, as calm as a yogi, as cool as a rock in the water." She glanced back at Charlie and Dominic, "no offense of course, I didn't mean it literally. Just that I was collected. Literally collected. Collected and calm, that's me. No worries, that's right, not a worry at all. Why if someone was going around collecting worries and they came to me. Hell, I'd say. I'd probably literally say it too. Especially if someone were weird enough to be trying to collect worries..."

"I think she's gone off the deep end," muttered Charlie weakly as he watched the dark haired woman randomly prattle as she quickly lead them through the dark streets.

"Don't worry," sighed Dominic, "for her this is pretty normal." Charlie shook his head as Jo took them down another alley.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The three of them all paused and glanced at one another. The call had been a cry of victory, and of the hunt. Dominic cursed as he looked over at Charlie.

"The wounds," he said darkly, "they caught the scent of blood back in that alley."

"Will they actually enter the city to track us," asked Charlie weakly.

"Oh yes," said Dominic with a nod. "They'll be a bit more subtle, but they'll be hunting us just the same." Dominic paused for a bit, his breath hissing in and out between his teeth. Finally he shook his head and looked over at Jo. "Where the hell is this safe house you're taking us too? How close is it?" 

"Other side of the city," she said with an apologetic shrug.

"We best get moving then, right?" Charlie glanced up at Dominic for direction. The Shadow Lord's eyes seemed unfocused as he looked off into the distance. Charlie suddenly staggered as he felt the solid support of Dominic's arm slip away from him. He crashed against a large dumpster as Dominic crumpled to the ground.

"Shit, shit, damn, hell, crap-a-doodle, fuck, damn, poop, stupid stubborn jerg-off!" Jo hissed and cursed as she rushed over and dropped by Dominic's side. Charlie pulled himself to his feet and walked weakly over to her as she quickly popped open Dominic's black business jacket. She peeled it back and looked down at his left side with a curse. Sure enough the dark shirt was damp from more then just the water, there was a large sticky patch of blood.

"Is he okay," asked Charlie as he dropped to his knees and looked at the stain.

"Damnit Jim, I'm a spy not a doctor," she muttered as she started to pull up Dominic's shirt. Charlie growled in worried annoyance as he watched her work. Suddenly Dominic's hand snapped up and latched onto her bony wrist. Jo hissed in pain as his powerful hand clamped down tightly. She looked up as he lifted his head slightly off the pavement and looked at her.

"Lung punctured," he gasped in annoyance. "You two get moving, I'll rest up and head out on my own...multiple paths may confuse..." he coughed a few times, blood flecking his lips. 

"Damnit you pig-brained cow-herder," snapped Jo in annoyance. "Why the hell did you have to keep doing it all yourself when you were hurt the most!" Charlie hung his head in shame, his own wounds were hardly debilitating, just painful. He clenched his hands tightly into fists as Jo continued to curse. "And how the hell are we going to get you to the damned safe spot? I know I can't carry you."

"I could," snarled Charlie as he tried to stand. Jo scowled at him and waved him back.

"Don't be stupid, you're not in great shape yourself." She frowned as she looked down again at Dominic, his face had grown still paler. Charlie sat next to her, his body quaking in helpless anger. Suddenly Jo's eyes widened. "Oh of course," she gasped as she dug into her coat and pulled out her cell-phone. "I just hope he picks up!" 

* * *

He sat propped up slightly on one arm, his body lounging across the worn and musty mattress. A thin trail of water seeped down the side of his face as another droplet dripped off him. The water stains seemed shapeless to him now, as pointless as his own existence. He raised his arm and clicked on the television. He pressed another button on the remote and scanned through the choices. Over one hundred and forty-seven stations, over half of those porn. He lowered his arm as another drop of water fell on its suicidal path and splashed against his brow. He left the scan function on automatic and just let the images cycle, washing across his retina.

He watched the screen absently. Allowing the brief flashes of light and the hurried snippets of sound to create an abstract creation. He felt his mind slip slightly out of joint as he reached the quiet solitude of his own meditation. He could remember a time when he would have meditated on the stars, on a waterfall, on the sounds of rustling leaves, on the glory of Gaia. Now he reached the state through alcohol, through scrambled images of porn, through quiet despair. He remembered a better time, a time he had been proud to be himself. He remembered, he remembered...

...remembered the putrid green light of the pit flashing across their faces as they fought and battled for their lives and the lives of so many others in that dark place. He looked up in horror as First-To-Find was torn apart, his body ripped asunder by a dark and unholy power. The sorcerer Malise cackled as he swept in towards them, around him the hordes of the corrupt howled in glee and pressed in. He growled as he looked over at Snowflake. Her beautiful white fur was stained red with her blood and the blood of her enemies. She snarled in ferocious agreement to his unspoken question. They turned and leaped into the middle of the approaching swarm. 

He and she moved as one, their attacks and defenses melding perfectly into an unstoppable whole. Malise cackled, his magic snapped around him. Beneath them the walkways suddenly splint asunder, the solid stone crumbling around them. The mad beasts of the pit howled in fear as they fell. He leaped and twisted, staying one step ahead of the crumbling stone, avoiding the unending fall into the green damnation below. He rushed for Malise, his claws extended as he hurtled himself into the air. Claws flashed! A throat was torn! A hero fell. He reached out, his hand grasping only air as he stared down into fear filled eyes. He howled in sorrow at the loss. Darkness swarmed in. The end came...

...His eyes snapped open, his body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he gasped for breath. He growled as he grabbed up the remote and flipped off the TV. The phone rang again, it had been ringing, it had shaken him out of the memories. He looked around at the discarded bottles laying about him. But none still contained the liquid forgetfulness that he sought. He slowly reached out and picked up the phone. He held it up to his ear and sighed.

"Hey man, that's you isn't it? It's me!" He almost threw the phone away from himself in that instant. But something in her tone forced him to hold his hand, it wasn't like Jo to sound so concerned.

"What is it?"

"We need help, big help, big fast help, big fast desperate help. Literally we need this, don't think this is a trick. It could be our lives...literally!" He ran a hand across his face and rubbed at his temples and stubble covered chin.

"We? We who? What help? What's going on Jo?"

"Listen to me very carefully, I need you to get off your butt. Literally. Get up and come out to the alleyway between the pawnshop and bar down on DeWalt drive. I need you to come quick man. Our lives are at stake here! Will you come? Tell me you'll be there!"

"Well..."

"Great! Hurry up, this is important!" The phone went dead in his hands. He dropped it to the floor and sat there looking at it for a while. She had said it was important. That her life was on the line. He sighed as he forced himself to stand. He at least didn't have to bother getting dressed, he'd been smart enough not to bother taking off his clothes since Jo had dragged him out to that bar. He shoved his hands into his coat and looked up at the ceiling. His face split with a annoyed snarl as he shook his head in frustration. He turned away from the ceiling and to the door. He walked out of his apartment and down the stairs. Behind him the water stains on the ceiling looked like laughing faces. 


	3. Gusts of Change

Welcome to the third part of my ever growing Werewolf tale. I must say I'm pleased at the response, since I basically started writing this story more as an experiment to create a Werewolf story then as any true plan to work for long with these characters. However they do seem to have run off with me somewhat, and hopefully this chapter will contain more of whatever it is you all enjoy about this story. I'll let you know that this chapter contains not only the name of the main character, but also brings back Puck. She was originally slated only for the opening, but FuryS Forge's comments helped me remember why I liked her character so much. Thus she has muscled her way back into the narrative...especially due to an odd little toy from the days of yore I spotted recently in the department store:) In any case, please read on and enjoy.

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter Three: Gusts of Change

"The dread and debased monstrosities are even now walking unhindered through our city!" The court was in an uproar, and for once she hadn't been the source of the anger. Puck quietly stood in the corner and watched the nobles fret and froth. She hadn't been too surprised when this emergency night council had been called. After all, she'd tried to warn them about the possibly resurgence of Spiral activity. Was it her fault if they thought she had been lying? It's not like she lied much...really about less then half of what she said were lies...really! Lady Ayloshia sat quietly on her throne. Her gossamer wings twitched slightly in agitation as she watched Lord Byris Gwyndion growing angrier. Arienkel suddenly steeped forward, his golden staff of office flaring slightly as he raised it.

"Calm thyself Byris. You shall speak with respect to your Lady!" The sage's eyes darted amongst the nobles. His stern glower quieting many of them. "You shall allow Lady Ayloshia to examine this problem fully. It is not something to be decided on without due consideration."

"You ask us to respect our Lady? You ask us to approve of her choices when all they do is weaken us. Perhaps next she would like to have us invite the leeches in for tea?" Puck glanced over as Lord Cruss stood. The young sidhe had been fairly vocal of late about his low opinions of Lady Ayloshia. He disapproved of her lax control of the commoners, and her peaceful policies towards the Unseelie court of Detroit. Some of his supporters, all fellow young hotheads, muttered in agreement. Puck scowled as even Arienkel withdrew before the young blowhard. Where they just going to let him rip into the Lady like that? "Action is what is needed. The Dancers could harm many innocents if left alone. What Lady is it who would allow this to pass unaddressed?"

"My what a dirty mind. Can't you see that Lady Ayloshia is addressed? And, if I may say so, I really think the bits of gold in the dress compliment her eyes!" Lord Cruss twisted to glare over at Puck as she spoke. Arienkel drew pale, shocked at the breach of court etiquette. Lady Ayloshia's lips lifted ever so slightly at the corners. Puck quickly scampered forward and hopped onto the council table. The various lords gasped in shock as she pulled out a pile of tiddlywinks and scattered them across the polished wood of the court heirloom.

"What idiocy is this," snapped Lord Cruss. "Arienkel, control this meeting!"

"Hey Cruss, look here." Puck dug her hand again into her pocket and produced a small red rubber ball. She began to bounce it about the table. "Those tiddlywinks can represent the lives of the innocents I'm sure you're worried about. This ball represents the Black Spirals!"

"Puck," said Arienkel in a voice that was already filled with resignation. "You do realize that precedence states that you may not speak until..."

"Hold." The soft musical voice quieted all protests. Puck glanced up with a wide grin as Ayloshia lifted one gleaming hand and waved it slightly. "Allow Puck to finish. She is occasionally wiser then even she suspects." Puck's multihued eyes blinked a few times as she considered the words. Finally she just figured them as a compliment.

"Thanks Aylo." She turned to look at Cruss. "Aylo, that's what I call her since we're such good friends." The sidhe sitting around the table glared silently back at her. Puck sighed and looked back at the ball she was still bouncing. "Well. You see, this ball here is the Spirals. Is it dangerous to my poor widdly tiddlywinks? You bet'cha!" Puck quickly bounced the ball down and popped a tiddlywink into the air. "Ooooh, that was bad. We don't want that to happen to our tiddlywinks, do we? Now...let's say we send out some warriors to stop the ball." Puck dug her hands through her deep pockets as she glanced over at Cruss, her other hand keeping the first ball bouncing. "So how many warriors should we send?"

"Uh...well, I didn't really," Cruss glanced around in confusion, wondering where this was going. His fellow supporters all avoided his glance. None of them daring to try and predict Puck's point. "Let's suppose we send out one per Spiral?"

"Got'cha. I don't know how many Spirals there are...let's say ten, just for the argument!" Her hand suddenly came out of her pocket and tossed nine more balls into the air. "Whoah, hey now!" Puck started capering about the table. Her eyes glued upward in concentration as she began to juggle them. Her feet nimbly dancing about the scattered tiddlywinks. "So we have our ten big, nasty, tough Spirals. And now you want to send out ten warriors? Jeez Cruss, talk about overkill." Her hand suddenly reached into her pocket again and started to toss up more balls. However these were blue ones.

"Does this have a point," hissed Cruss in frustration. Puck grinned at him as suddenly she began bouncing the balls along the table as well as juggling. The red and blue spheres bounced high and fast. There quickly grew a sharp staccato of beats as the balls rebounded off the wooden table.

"Uh-oh Cruss! Looks like we started to fight! Look out tiddlywinks, look out!" The balls began to move faster. Suddenly tiddlywinks were being bounced around and off the table. The small silvery pieces of metal arcing into the air and sailing past startled council member's faces. "Oh no! My tiddlywinks. My iddly, biddly, tiddlywinks!" Cruss cursed in annoyance as one of the bits ricocheted off the table and into his forehead. "Look out middly, widdly, diddly, tiddlywinks!"

"Puck! That's enough!" Arienkel glowered at her as he tapped his staff sharply on the ground. The metallic clang ringing through the beats of the balls. Puck quickly nodded and froze. The balls bounced wildly about the table and then bounced off onto the floor. A few surprised troll guards found themselves dodging the little projectiles.

"Sorry about that guys," called Puck as she dropped to a sitting position. She grabbed up one of the blue rubber balls and glanced up at the trolls. The large blue-skinned knights watched her curiously. "But...you knew there were gonna be casualties if we send out anyone to stop the Spirals." She turned her head to smile at Cruss. "So, what do you think about saving my niddly, piddly, tiddlywinks now?"

"I understand what you're trying to say," said Cruss as he shook a tiddlywink out of his hair. "But if we need to save the tiddl...the innocent people, we have to do something!"

"I agree," said Puck. She looked down at the table and bounced the ball on it a few times. "If my tiddlywinks had been under the table, I bet none of that would have happened."

"No," gasped Cruss in exasperation, "no it wouldn't have!"

"Wow! What a great idea," giggled Puck as she suddenly rolled forward and tumbled off the table. "I think I totally agree with you!" She clasped him in a quick hug. Cruss hissed in annoyance as he shoved the small pooka off. Puck merrily skipped back over to her corner. Arienkel watched her leave. He reached up and plucked a tiddlywink from his beard and glanced up at Lady Ayloshia.

"So my Lady. What is thy will?" 

* * *

It wasn't long before he found the alley that Jo had mentioned. He cautiously walked up and poked his head into it. He looked around but spotted nothing, he sniffed the air but could only smell the stench of the large trash dumpster. He frowned as he walked into the alley, he swore that if this had all been some joke on her part...

"About damn time," hissed Jo as her head suddenly popped out of the dumpster. He jerked back in surprise at her sudden appearance and watched quietly as she scrambled over the edge and dropped back onto the pavement. "C'mon damnit, we need help." She turned and pointed into the dumpster. He sighed and walked forward. A young man poked his head out of the dumpster. His long brown hair was damp and dirty, matted to his face. A face that seemed far too young to be sporting the jagged wound that ran across it and down onto his throat. There had apparently been an attempt to bandage it, but blood was still seeping from the garish cut. The man pulled himself upwards with a grunt and eyed the newcomer warily. He glanced at Jo.

"Who the hell is this?" He was about to answer when Jo cut him off.

"Just a friend, don't worry about it." The young man eyed him up and down, then shrugged.

"Whatever, come help me get Dominic out of here." He bent down and issued a hiss of pain as he dragged the pale faced Shadow Lord up from the recesses of the dumpster.

"Go on, give him a hand. Literally, I think he could use a hand or two helping." He didn't go to help, he simply turned to glance at Jo.

"What's going on here? What happened?"

"Dancer ambush," growled the young man, "they knew exactly where we'd be. Almost wiped us out too." Jo shook her head as she rushed forward to help the young man lift Dominic out of the dumpster. The Shadow Lord's angular and stern face was now slack and pale. His black eyebrows and the dribble of red on his lips stood out in sharp contrast to the pallid skin.

"Are you gonna help us or not," snapped Jo angrily as she glared over her shoulder at him while struggling desperately to support Dominic. He nodded and stepped forward in annoyance, one of his large arms reaching out and easily accepting the burden she had been laboring with. His other hand reached up and effortlessly plucked the limp body from the young man's grasp. The youth nodded in thanks as he weakly pulled himself over the lip and gingerly dropped to the ground.

"Thanks man," he gasped as he clutched at his gut in obvious pain.

"Don't consider it," he said softly as he glanced over at Jo. "So where is it I'm helping you go?"

"Weeeeell," she said as she looked down and scuffed her shoe a few times on the pavement. "We've sorta got some Dancers still hunting us, and as you can see Dominic and Charlie are all ripped up, literally that is." He nodded impatiently as he listened. "And the only safe house I know of is on the other side of town, and obviously we'll never make it. So...I was thinking...since you lived so close by..."

"Jo," he growled menacingly.

"Hey look, the Dancers are probably on their way here right now. So we can sit and discuss this here...or at least get moving. Moving and talking seem like a real good idea to me right now. Really good. And really now." She turned and motioned for them to follow as she rushed back out onto the street. Charlie hissed in pain as he gamely followed. He stood there and glanced down at Dominic and back after the other two. He jerked his head slightly, ticking his jaw upwards.

"Oh Gaia preserve," he muttered as he followed. 

* * *

Stinkface and his pack made their way through the nighttime streets of Detroit. Treeshaker and Rockcrusher trailed along after him, eagerly whispering to each other about what they would do to the Garou when they caught them. Around them were the other members of the hunt, all of them in the homid or lupus form. They appeared like a motley collection of beggars and their mangy dogs. Those in the lupus sniffed the air as they walked along, keeping careful track of the blood scent despite the myriad other aromas swirling throughout the city.

The human cattle of the city allowed the hunting pack to pass amongst them unnoticed. A few of the more perceptive felt a vague sense of unease as the beggars passed them by. But most dismissed it as only being concerned of the large and angry looking dogs accompanying the group. They couldn't allow themselves to believe that what they saw was the pure personification of the predator. There was a nervous shifting in the ranks as Kendar appeared. He motioned to the group and they quickly slid off the sidewalk and trudged into an alley. 

Slight murmurs rippled through the packs, why had the war leader come? Kendar pulled Endelon aside. The two leaders spoke in quick hushed whispers. Endelon calmly describing the entirety of the battle and the purpose of their hunt. Kendar growled in agreement. He mentioned that their spy had reported as much to him and that he had been sent to ensure Dominic's destruction. Endelon nodded and motioned to the trackers to return to their business. Once again the strange collection walked out onto the streets and marched down the sidewalks. People stepped out of their way, peering curiously at the odd progression.

Stinkface wasn't paying attention. He was too embarrassed over his performance earlier tonight. He had reached the primary prey. He had been given a chance to slay Dominic and gain glory for himself and his pack. But the Shadow Lord had dismissed him as though he were nothing. Stinkface ran a hand over his sore shoulder where Dominic's claws had torn into his flesh. He growled as he recalled the simple effortlessness of Dominic shoving him aside. He recalled his shame as he slid across the ice like some fool. Slid away across the ice, and lost his chance at glory. 

"You are troubled whelp," snarled a voice over his shoulder. Stinkface looked up in shock at the looming shape of Kendar, his yellows eyes glinting as the peered out from under the brim of his fedora.

"No lord," Stinkface quickly said as he shook his head. "I think only of the hunt."

"I heard you were bested by Dominic when you faced him tonight." Stinkface's head sank as he yet again recalled his lunge and push across the ice. "I heard you were tossed aside as a man brushes away an insect." He heard the low chuckle from Kendar and felt his temper flare. He glared over at the dangerous warrior and growled.

"We shall see who swats who when next I find him!" Kendar chuckled further at this comment. One of his arms snapped out as he smashed it into Stinkface's back in a powerful pat across his shoulders. Stinkface hissed in pain as the blow aggravated his shoulder injury, sending lances of pain down his arm and back. He looked up in rage at Kendar, but paused as the mighty Ahroun nodded at him.

"You were the youngest to attack him. Worry not, you shall have your chance at Dominic yet." Kendar turned and started to head towards Endelon. "Just make sure you don't fail again." Stinkface nodded eagerly as he watched the famed warrior walk forward in the group. He looked back at Treeshaker and Rockcrusher, both had snarling envy and shocked amazement scrawled across their faces. They couldn't believe that he had earned Kendar's approval. Stinkface snarled as he grinned wickedly. Oh yes, he had earned that, and soon he would earn much more. He would make the war leader proud of him. Even if he had to wade through a sea of his foe's blood to do so. 

* * *

"So who is he, really?" Asked Charlie as he walked alongside Jo. He glanced over his shoulder nervously, but the stranger was too far back to be able to overhear them. He walked along grimly, supporting Dominic in his arms while he followed. Jo didn't look up, her face remained bleak as she lead them down the back alleys towards the apartment of the stranger. Charlie walked along quietly, waiting for her answer. In the brief time he had known her he realized that silence was not Jo's usual reaction to anything. "Well," he prompted.

"A friend...an old friend." She jammed her hands in her jacket and hunched her shoulders. Her pace quickened slightly as she slipped ahead of him a few steps. Charlie glanced back again at the stranger. The man caught him looking and their gazes locked. Charlie's soft brown eyes widened slightly as he stared into the dead and emotionless gaze of the stranger. Charlie felt the old primal call of the wolf, ordering him not to look away, to prove his dominance. But the dead gleam of the stranger's eyes, they promised death. Charlie felt a tingle of chill dread crawl up his spine, overwhelming his instincts and ordering him to drop his gaze. Though the look seemed to him to have lasted for ages their eyes had only locked for an instant. But before he could even react the stranger seemed to sigh and quickly glanced away. Charlie frowned as he looked back at the bobbing dark shape of Jo walking briskly in front of him.

"There's more to it then that isn't there? Is he kinfolk or Garou?" He forced himself to pick up the pace despite the sharp pain of his gut wound. He came up alongside her and glared down, she didn't meet his gaze. "Well, what is he?"

"A Garou."

"Garou eh?" Charlie recalled how quickly he had broken their stare. He had never won a stare-down with any other Garou. Ever. There was more to this then he knew yet. "What tribe is he, what auspice?" Jo said nothing she simply turned a corner and started down a narrow path between two chain-link fences. Charlie growled slightly as he pursued, he reached out and clamped his hand down on her shoulder. "Is he Bone Gnawer?" Charlie had never met one of the city dwelling Garou, though he had heard stories. They lived amongst the slum and squalor of the urban areas. They were widely considered the weakest and most cowardly of the Garou. They were also widely disparaged and disrespected by the other tribes. That this strange man with no bravery or fire in his soul was one of them made sense to Charlie.

"No, he's not a Gnawer," said Jo as she glanced up in annoyance at the hand gripping her thin scrawny shoulder tightly. Charlie didn't bother to release her at this subtle hint. She cursed and shook her arm. "Leggo, you jerk. He's not got any damn tribe." Charlie did let go then, but more in shock then satisfaction with her answer. Jo quickly turned and kept walking, he kept after her.

"No tribe?"

"That's right," she snapped, "he's a ronin."

"A ronin," said Charlie in surprise. He quickly glanced over his shoulder again and saw the ronin enter the alley and walk after them. He glanced back at Jo as she doggedly kept walking. He stayed close to her as he considered her words. He had heard of the ronin, but never dreamed he would ever see one. They were the lone wolfs, those without a tribe or pack. He had heard some stories that romanticized the ronin's lifestyle. Tales of butchered packs and lone quests of justice and vengeance. But Charlie knew these held about as much truth as tales of Robin Hood and gentlemen pirates. The ronin were disgraced outcasts. Expelled from their tribes or packs for crimes or reasons that didn't warrant their death, but were unforgivable by the tribes. "Do you know him well? What did he do?"

"He did too much," came Jo's reply as she shook her head. "And he did too little." Charlie frowned, unsure what she could possibly mean by this. 

"But you do know him?"

"I...I..." Jo paused and finally glanced over her shoulder to look at the isolated shape that followed them down the alley. His face obscured in shadows from the lone street-lamp shining behind him as it cast his shadow long and dark across the path in front of him. Charlie watched as her face seemed to grow sad, a strange sense of melancholy slipping into her usually shining eyes. She twitched her lips a few times, as if her mind was searching for some sort of way to convey what she was thinking about her strange friend. "I...knew him," she finally decided. 

"Then who is he?" Pressed Charlie curiously. She looked up at him, her face half lit by the light and half dark.

"Nobody." 

* * *

The music of darkness echoed and beat through the room. Water dripped freely from the leaking pipes to create a symphony that mixed easily with the murmured chanting that reverberated off the walls. Fer-guath shook one of his hands softly above one of the few calm and motionless pools of water within the room. There was a slight clacking from the small leather pouch he clutched in his hand. His lone green eye narrowed as it peered into the dark depths of the pool. Finally he looked up with a scowl, his narrow leathery lips peeling back from narrow fangs and black gums.

"They have failed," he snarled. "He who rends the darkness managed to escape them with a fool's trick. A childish ploy!" Spittle flung from his mouth as he snapped the words in anger. The dark shadow that had been standing quietly against a nearby wall chuckled.

"So...you know what your packs are capable of." Fer-guath shook in impotent rage at the insult, his tattered ears falling back against scattered black hair on his skull.

"They hunt them even now. They are having trouble with the scent, but they shall find them. Both Dominic and the other are wounded. Endelon cut them both before they could escape. They are tired and wounded and alone in the city without escape. My packs shall find them, and destroy them."

"I realize that this whole removal of dear Dominic was your idea," said the dark shape with a narrow grin. His cold voice sounded strange. It, for some reason, failed to echo in the least within the chamber. Instead it sounded cold and flat, a hiss of unearthliness that even Fer-guath could sense. "But I do think that once it has been begun it would be unwise to leave unfinished. I doubt Dominic will overlook this attack, he could start digging deeper. That could become a problem. Perhaps you would like me to contact a few of my friends? I'm sure they would be willing to help you."

"That is...not necessary, lord," hissed Fer-guath as he bowed his head slightly. "Kendar and his packs will sweep the city. And Endelon is with them, he never gives up, and has never failed in a hunt. Give them time and I will soon present you with Dominic's head!" Fer-guath snarled in glee as he spoke the last, but his fanged grin quickly fell away when the dark shape laughed at him some more.

"Oh Fer-guath. What makes you think I have the time to give you? Need I remind you of the plan? Need I remind you of the schedule? Need I remind you!" Each question was asked with more and more venom, until by the last the dark shadow bellowed the words. Though there remained no echo the room itself seemed to vibrate with the powerful shout. Fer-guath cringed and quickly nodded and bowed his head to the floor.

"Forgiveness master. I know well that your time is vital. My men will have Dominic's head for you before the new moon, this I swear!"

"Forgive me for doubting you my dear friend," said the shadow, his voice once more a controlled purr of laughter. "But I believe I shall speak to my friends. They are so much better prepared in the ways of the city. And you owe them anyway for your little 'distraction' earlier. Have your packs contact them for instructions." Fer-guath bowed again, he knew he would have to sacrifice his chance to claim all the glory for Dominic's destruction now. But better that then to risk angering the master. He knew well what could happen to those who crossed him, and Fer-guath did not wish to share their fate. 

* * *

Charlie watched as they lay Dominic down gently upon the worn mattress. He looked around with a scowl of distaste at the rest of the apartment. Jo quickly slipped over to Dominic's side and began fussily worrying over him. Her thin bony fingers peeling back his shirt and cleaning the wound. The ronin quickly retreated and slipped into the corner farthest from the injured Shadow Lord. He crouched down and leaned against the wall, seeming to be trying to forget any of them were even there. Charlie walked up and stood over him, he tried to smile slightly as the ronin glanced up at him.

"My name is Charlie 'Black Muzzle'. Galliard of the Get of Fenris. I am a servant of Bull, protector of the Raging Falls and nephew of Marn the One Eyed. I owe you my life and wish to thank you for your aid." Charlie finished the ritualistic speaking of his name and waited for the classic reply. Instead the ronin glanced up at Charlie, his eyes narrowing.

"You are related to Marn?"

"Yes," Charlie replied quickly. He was used to having to deal with the amazement of others in learning that he was kin to the famous and powerful leader of the Get tribes of the area. He waited again, expecting some sort of proper reply. Instead the ronin chuckled and shook his head.

"Figures," he said bitterly. He looked away again, ignoring Charlie's presence. Charlie forced himself to turn away, and tried to ignore the tightness his anger was creating in his muscles.

"Hey," called Jo, her cry breaking the quiet tension. "I'm beat, who's gonna watch over Dominic?" She looked straight at the ronin. He didn't even look up. Charlie walked forward.

"I will."

"But you could do with some rest too..."

"You can replace me when you wake up," he said as he sat down next to the bed. Jo sighed and nodded as she climbed up and walked over to the closet. She dug out a dusty and mangy blanket from it and slunk into the kitchen. Charlie looked over as he heard a small plip. He watched the drop of water roll across Dominic's pale face and down the side of his forehead. He curiously looked up at the leaking AC unit and the wild shapes of the water stains above the bed.

"Don't look at them too long," said the ronin as he stood up and trailed after Jo into the kitchen. "If you do they'll start to show you things best forgotten." So saying he swung the kitchen door shut and left Charlie alone with Dominic. The young Galliard watched the soft and shallow breathing of the man who had once seemed an invincible hero. He watched as another drop fell and slowly rolled down Dominic's face. He swallowed nervously and began to quietly sing one of the oldest songs he knew. The Lament of The Fallen...

Gaia, oh Gaia, come looking for me.  
I'm here in the meadow, by the dead maple tree.  
Gaia, hey Gaia, look sharp here I be.  
Hey. Hey. Gaia, look sharp... 

Their silver burned like fire, Oh Gaia, did we run.  
But then we turned round, and the battle begun.  
Then I went under, Oh Gaia, am I done?  
Hey. Hey. Gaia, look sharp... 

My eyes are wide open, my face to the sky,  
Is that you I'm hearing in the tall grass nearby?  
Gaia, come find me. Before I do die.  
Hey. Hey. Gaia, look sharp... 

Now close your eyes my brave wolf.  
Them eyes that cannot see.  
And I'll bury ye, my brave wolf.  
Beneath the maple tree. 

And never again will you whisper to me.  
Hey. Hey. Oh Gaia...look sharp... 

* * *

Charlie's soft crooning carried through the thin wooden door to the kitchen. Jo sat curled up on the floor in front of the fridge. The ronin sat against the opposite wall, his head resting against the window frame of the glass that was letting in the soft light of the waning crescent moon outside. He watched her carefully, his mind puzzling out the problem presented to him. How to get a beer out of the fridge without waking her. Blast it if she hadn't placed herself there on purpose! The only other possible alcohol was scattered around the bed that Dominic and Marn's nephew were occupying. He frowned as he tucked his legs up underneath him and rested his hands on his knees. 

Concentrate, focus, meditate. He didn't need the alcohol, he could forget by himself. Forget the flash of her sparkling eyes. Forget the heady smell that was hers and hers alone. Forget the long silky white hair. Forget the soft twist of her lips when she was upset. Forget the flash of claws. Forget the torn throat. Forget the plummet into darkness. Forget. Forget! FORGET! His eyes snapped open, his breath rushed through his nostrils in quick short gasps. He shook his head as he quickly sprang to his feet. It was no good...no good. He ran his shaking hands across his face.

He was unsure how long he had spent in his trance, but the song from the living room had stopped. He looked up curiously and walked over to the door. He pressed his ear to it and listened. From the other side he could hear Charlie hurriedly describing where they were and how they had gotten here. Then he heard the soft growling of Dominic as he asked another question. He asked who owned the apartment. He sighed, he had known this would happen. He reached out and pushed the door open. Dominic sat propped up on the mattress. He and Charlie both turned to look at him as he stepped through the doorway. The ronin crossed his arms over his chest and looked bleakly at Dominic's scowling face.

"What idiocy is this? Too busy to help us but you'd grant us the right of cowering in your den?" Dominic forced himself to sit up fully, his face twisting in pain as he did so. The ronin's eyes narrowed.

"Too busy to help you," he said curiously, echoing Dominic's words. The Shadow Lord snarled as he stood up, his movements tearing open his wound again and releasing a trickle of blood down his side.

"Sir," gasped Charlie as he too hopped to his feet. His face looking worriedly at Dominic's injury.

"You are as great an incompetent fool as ever you were," Dominic sneered coldly as he started to re-button his shirt. "I agree to your begging request and am rewarded with a slap to the face. Your cowardice and lies impress me no more. I shall not spend time in any wretched place you call home."

"My begging? My cowardice?" The ronin's voice had dropped to an even softer tone. "I have never broken my word in my life. You should be thankful I was willing to help you at all."

"Thankful? Me? You blasted fool, what nonsense do you prattle?" Dominic walked forward to stand before the ronin, his hands curling into fists. Charlie followed after him, nervously watching the two argue. "Perhaps you have forgotten your place urrah?" Charlie winced at the severe word. The ronin's eyes narrowed in anger.

"You consider me one of the tainted," he asked in a harsh whisper. "Why then is it you who needs me? Why then is it you who constantly interrupts my solitude and begs for aid?" Dominic froze, his snarling face suddenly going dead calm. Charlie stepped forward, fearful that the Shadow Lord might collapse again. But Dominic waved him off, his eyes never leaving the ronin's.

"I didn't ask you for help," said Dominic suspiciously. "Whoever told you that."

"Who told you that I wished to aid you," replied the ronin with a soft snarl. Suddenly both of them froze. The ronin turned slowly and peered back into the kitchen, Dominic followed his gaze. Charlie peeked between their shoulders as they both glared at a scrawny little body wrapped up tightly in a worn blanket in front of the refrigerator. 

* * *

"I believe the lesson of the table protecting the...tiddlywinks, is a good one." The obvious trace of laughter he had noticed in Ayloshia's tone should have warned him of what was to come. "Yes, what we need is a small shield. Something to keep the balls from hurting the ...tiddlywinks." She had smiled every time she had said the word. He had felt his face grow hot in annoyance. He decided then and there that he hated...those things. "Thus I decree that we shall send a small, yet capable force out to observe the Spirals. Watch them, stay hidden. Only interfere to save an innocence, or a...tiddlywink. Try to let the Spirals and whoever they are hunting settle their differences themselves. We cannot afford this conflict."

"But my Lady," Arienkel had asked, "whom shall you send?"

"I trust you are proud of yourself," said Lord Cruss as stood on the rooftop. He wore a shirt of gleaming mithril mail. The light as cloth metal was hidden under his blue silk tunic. His silvered sword was strapped to his side. The wind caught at his long black cape and swirled it about his thin and muscular body. His golden honey hair was tied back into a ponytail. His sharp silver eyes glinted with slight menace as he looked at his companion. The pooka was reclining on the edge of the roof. Her arms folded behind her head as she looked at the stars. She was wearing a pair of bright orange overalls that cut off just below her knees, dark red socks that were pulled up over her calves, sparkle covered tennis sneakers, and an oversized lime green long sleeved shirt. A small plastic yellow pipe was clutched between her small teeth. A few bubbles lazily floated out of it as she spoke.

"All I did was agree with you. It was your plan."

"My plan?" Cruss felt the tips of his pointed ears flush with heat. His face twisted into an angry snarl. "At what accursed point in the universe did this madness become my plan? Was it I who decided that only the two of us should go out to stop the whole horde of foul beasts?"

"No, that was Lady Ayloshia. Are you mad at her plan?"

"It wasn't Ayloshia's plan either you insufferable twit!" Cruss waved his finger at Puck angrily. "I'm sure I would have recalled if the Lady had hopped about a table and started to play with..." He growled as he finally spat the word. "Tiddlywinks!"

"I recall it," said Puck innocently. Lord Cruss threw up his hands in frustration. Puck glanced over at him with her multicolored eyes and grinned slightly. "If it's any consolation I didn't think she'd send me too."

"Oh." Cruss slowly nodded his head as he placed his hands on his hips. He smiled slightly at her as he spoke. "I see. How foolish! Surely I can't be upset at you." He shook his head and shrugged with a wide grin. "After all...you were only trying to screw up my life. How sad it is that you were somehow caught up in your own little plot. It must really be upsetting. I'm so sorry for you."

"Glad to know you understand." Cruss's grin faded suddenly as he stalked forward. He stood over her as he glared down at Puck's contented grin.

"Know that I swear this pooka, by all that I hold dear, I shall have a reckoning, and my honor shall be satisfied. I swear that you shall regret your actions at council tonight. 

"What if I already do?" 

* * *

"Get up meddler!" Dominic's loud shout was accompanied by a sharp kick into Jo's side. Charlie winced in sympathetic pain as Jo started to sit up and was kicked again. She yelped in surprise as she scrambled to her feet. She struggled and twisted as she tried to shake the tightly wrapped blanket off her. Her chore was not made any easier by Dominic's continued blows. "What did you think! Were your lies all for the greater good! Was it wise to meddle in my affairs!" The ronin shook his head at the sight as he walked over and opened his fridge.

"Hold on Dominic! Hold on!" She finally tossed off the blanket and turned to look at him. Dominic's hand snapped out and clamped around her throat as he snarled at her. Jo gasped and struggled against his solid grasp. "I didn't mean literally, not literally to hold on!" Charlie backed off and stood near the doorway, not wanting to step into the middle of this argument. The ronin pulled out a bottle of beer from the fridge and popped it open as he watched Dominic shake Jo about by her throat.

"What were you hoping to do? Dishonor us both? Fool us! Lie to us!"

"I was just trying to get you guys to talk or something," she gasped out between shakes.

"Talk," snapped Dominic. "Why should we talk if we don't want to. Who are you to dictate to us what we should or shouldn't do. How could this plan even begin to help us?"

"Well," said Jo as Dominic paused in his throttling of her to listen. "I've got to say that," she breathed in a bit then smiled up at him. "At least I got you to refer to him as 'us' and 'we' instead of 'that damned urrah'! You guys are bonding again already!" Dominic eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip around her throat again. Jo squeaked as she began to turn an odd shade of bluish. The ronin polished off his bottle of booze and tossed it away as he watched her.

"You shouldn't have bothered Jo," he said with a sigh. "You must have realized we would have talked and figured it out."

"Yes," she gagged, her voice sounding strained. "I know, but at least ... you ... would ... have ... talked!" Dominic growled in her face, which was now turning purplish. Charlie glanced worriedly at the ronin, hoping for some support on getting Dominic to back off. But the ronin didn't even seem to be watching the struggle anymore, instead he was staring out the nearby window. Charlie nervously coughed.

"Uh, sir. Don't you think you should let her go now?" Dominic snarled as he glanced up. Charlie quickly retreated back a few steps. Dominic glanced over at the choking and wriggling form of Jo, her bony hands prying ineffectually against his strong grip. He sighed as the anger seemed to flow out of him, he released his hold of her throat. Jo dropped to her knees and clutched at her throat. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air. Dominic crossed his arms and glared down at her. Charlie sighed in relief. The ronin suddenly growled.

"What is it," asked Dominic as he looked up. Jo collapsed weakly backwards, still gasping heavily. The ronin stepped back from the window and spun towards them.

"They're here!" Dominic snarled and whirled around to leap into the living room. The ronin quickly tore open one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a wooden case from inside it. Jo wheezed softly as she massaged her throat. Charlie ran over to look out the window, the street below seemed empty and innocuous. He turned to watch as Dominic burst back into the kitchen, his coat on and his klaive in hand.

"Who's here," Charlie asked desperately.

"Our hunters," snarled Dominic as he shoved Charlie out of the way and grabbed up Jo by her coat. She whimpered in meek protest. "Josephine! We'll need to get out of here, we'll need a meeting point if we get split up. Where should it be?" The phone started ringing. Charlie turned towards it but the ronin only snarled at him as he shoved Charlie back.

"Leave it, it won't be good news." The ronin glanced up at the ceiling above his mattress then, he seemed to almost laugh at what he saw. Charlie looked up too, all he saw was the leaking AC and the water stains.

"There's the safe spot I was gonna take you," said Jo as she steadied herself. "It's on the corner of Arnold Drive and Benedict Boulevard. A big four story building. It'll have 'Warehouse 8' painted on the side. Just tell whoever you meet that Jo sent you." Dominic nodded and looked around at the rest of them.

"You all have that?" Charlie and the ronin nodded. Dominic released Jo as he rushed into the living room and pressed his ear to the door. "They're coming up now, at least six of them," he snarled. Charlie looked around the tiny apartment.

"What are we going to do?"

"Window exit makes sense," said the ronin as he wrapped up his box in the blanket Jo had dropped. She rushed over to him and grabbed his arm.

"You're gonna meet us at the warehouse right? Don't just slip away man. Don't slip away..." The ronin nodded to her, Jo smiled as she hopped up and ran to the window. Charlie trailed after her as she opened it. He heard Dominic growl, heard the growl grow deeper as the Shadow Lord shifted up to his crinos form. The large black man-wolf stormed back into the kitchen.

"We move. Now!" 

"Pups and pissy people first!" Jo motioned towards the window. The ronin frowned at her as he climbed through it and onto the ledge, the bundled up box slung over his shoulder. Charlie climbed through next, and watched as the ronin quickly shimmed down a nearby drainpipe to the sidewalk below. Charlie grabbed the pipe and swung onto it. His descent was hardly as fluid as the ronin's, and ended with him just dropping the last ten feet. He looked up as he heard a loud roar and gunshots in the apartment. He froze, unsure of what to do, till the ronin grabbed his shoulder.

"Dominic can handle himself, let's move!" Charlie nodded as he turned to rush after the ronin. They sprinted down the sidewalk until they took a sharp turn down a side alley. Charlie ran after him, and then into him. Charlie quickly regained his balance, snarling in anger at the ronin's bizarre stop. But then he heard the low hissing cry that softly carried through the stale air of the dark alley.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will..." Charlie looked forward. Three figures were lurking at the end of the alley. A beggar and his two dogs, however Charlie could spot the dread malevolence of their gazes. He spun around to look back towards the way they had come in. Two large figures dropped off the rooftop to land soundly in the way of any escape. Their dark faces split into jagged toothed grins, their powerful hands curled as their claws glinted in the dim light. He heard the low growls of the dogs as they crept forward. Their lanky gray limbs thickening, their shoulders bunching and spreading apart. Their padded feet lengthening into clawed fingers. The beggar's ragged clothes shredded apart as he too shifted into battle form.

"We don't want any trouble," said the ronin softly. "Please just let us pass. We only wish to avoid confrontation." Charlie's eyes widened in surprise as he spun to look at the ronin's sad and defeated expression. The large dark shapes chuckled to themselves, their gleaming red eyes shining with humor and malice.

"Are you mad," hissed Charlie. "We have to fight!"

"Violence is not the answer," snapped the ronin. "I have fought all my life for nothing. It...it gains nothing," he sighed as he spoke the words. The Dancers' hissing laughter again slithered through the alley. The ronin raised his hands, palms out, towards both groups. "Please, I humbly beg you to let us pass."

"You no fight," asked the Dancer who had been the beggar. His narrow snub-nosed face and drooling fangs clearly showing his own surprise at the concept.

"I do not seek to fight anything. Not anymore."

"Useless coward," snapped Charlie as he shoved the ronin back against the alley wall. He growled as he called upon the inner beast, his body filling with the raw power of the wolf. Charlie bared his fangs as he crouched in the middle of the narrow alley. "I'll fight," he snarled. The Dancers eyed him, looked at the brutal cuts on his face and gut. Their hisses were a mockery to his ears.

"One coward," chortled snub-nose as he pointed at the ronin then to Charlie. "One cripple!" Charlie felt his hackles rise at the comment, his vision blurred. Everything seeming to fade away except for the laughing snub-nosed Dancer. "This Gaia's best," sneered the Dancer. Charlie howled as he sprang forward, his claws slashing through the air to rip into the Dancer's chest. Almost immediately he was blasted back, claws ripping into his arms and flanks as the two dog Dancers tore into him. Snub-nose growled as his own claws snapped out, tearing open part of Charlie's face. He stumbled back and collapsed to the hard ground. He looked up as one of the dog Dancers leapt in, his jaws aiming for Charlie's unprotected throat. He closed his eyes and prepared for the end. Instead he heard a screaming howl of pain.

"Wha?" Charlie opened his eyes again. The ronin stood in-between him and the Dancers. His face was still tired and full of resignation. But his right hand was now coated in a thick layer of blood. The dog Dancer lay crumpled before him, its throat ripped apart, its eyes rolled back in its skull, its tongue lolling from its slack mouth. It slowly reverted to its natural wolf shape, quite dead. The ronin shook his head slowly.

"This is not the way..." Charlie gasped and struggled weakly to his feet. His arm hung dead by his side, he impatiently willed it to heal quicker as he heard the Dancers begin growling again. They were losing their trace of fear, they were growing angry once more.

"We've got to get away," he growled to the ronin.

"No," whispered the ronin, "it is too late for that. The winds of war blow and we cannot escape."

"Kill him," howled snub-nose. The other Dancers bellowed in rage as they charged in from behind.

"Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" The ronin's arm snapped out, shoving Charlie off balance and knocking him to the ground. In the same instant he sprang into the air and spun around, his wild red hair whipping about his face. His arms snapped out in sharp, quick punches. The two Dancers that had suddenly charged from behind were unprepared for the ronin's unexpected burst of speed. Their claws hissed through the air where he and Charlie had once been, catching nothing but the breeze and the trailing edge of the ronin's coat. Both howled in pain as they reeled away. Their hands clutching at their faces as blood sprayed from fierce wounds around their eyes.

"Damn," muttered Charlie in shock. He glanced at the ronin, small dribbles of blood were falling from the tips of his fingers. He turned back to the last two Dancers. He jerked his jaw upwards slightly as he eyed them, his long rust colored hair falling around his scowling face. The last dog Dancer growled in dumfounded confusion. Snub-nose sprang forward, his teeth snapping as his claws flashed towards the ronin's face. The ronin quickly charged forward to meet the Dancer's charge. He sprang into the air as he ran, his foot snapping forward into snub-nose's face as he did. The Dancer staggered back, his jaw broken by the powerful kick. The ronin landed lightly in front of the Dancer and dropped down as he spun around, his leg lashing out and sweeping snub-nose's feet from under him. Even as the Dancer collapsed the ronin sprang over him and charged the dog Dancer. 

The Dancer bellowed and rushed to meet him. Again the ronin sprang into the air. But the dog Dancer had seen what befell his comrade and quickly raised his clawed hands to protect his face. However the ronin had never meant to kick, instead he had jumped so that he would sail past the left side of the Dancer. The ronin's left hand snapped out in a fierce jab to the unprotected side of the Dancer's throat. Charlie gasped as the Dancer gurgled and stumbled forward, blood spraying from his torn open throat. The ronin landed behind him and spun around, his left hand jabbing sharply into the Dancer's back. The towering black beast managed a gurgling whimper of pain as it collapsed. A gaping hole in its back frothed as blood gushed out. The ronin raised his red splattered left hand and frowned at the other Dancers.

"I do not wish further death," he whispered. Snub-nose scrambled to his feet and fled. The other two Dancers scampered after him, still clutching at their bloody faces. Charlie weakly rose to his feet. He stared wide-eyed at the flashing eyes and wild red hair of the ronin. His hands were coated in blood, his movements had been perfect and deadly. Charlie shifted back to homid form as he gasped.

"That was fucking amazing!" Even as he spoke the ronin turned his head slightly to look at him. Charlie grinned, and the ronin's face grew blank. His shoulders slumped, as his hands dropped to his sides, blood still dripping off them.

"That was pointless," sighed the ronin. "More death is not Gaia's will. It helps no one. It serves no purpose but that of the destroyer. That of the Wyrm."

"What the hell are you talking about," growled Charlie as he weakly staggered over. "It pretty well served the purpose of saving our lives! You took care of some things that..."

"We should move," cut in the ronin, ignoring Charlie's words. "We are not out of the killing zone yet, they probably only went for help." So saying he turned and continued down the alley, Charlie rushing after him. They ran for blocks on end, pausing only once for the ronin to rip up his shirt and bandage Charlie's arm and side. They then ran more. Finally the ronin called a stop, they stood in an alley near a busy street corner. Charlie watched the swarms of people and cars streaming by.

"What now?"

"We split up," said the ronin as he crouched and rechecked the wrapping of his box.

"Split up? Why?"

"Just to help confuse scents, don't worry we're very close to the meeting spot." Charlie's eyes narrowed suspiciously as the ronin gave him all the directions he would need.

"You're not going, are you," asked Charlie as the ronin stood again.

"What do you mean, we're just splitting up."

"You don't mean to go to the meeting spot. You're going to run off again, aren't you. That's what Jo was worried about." Charlie watched as the ronin slung his bundle over his shoulder and turned to walk away. Charlie started to follow him, the ronin glanced back in annoyance.

"What are you doing whelp?"

"Following you sir," said Charlie.

"Why?"

"I'm weak, I'm wounded. I'll need help. Besides, you know the best way to the meeting place, and I know you're going there." The ronin turned around to look at him, this time when their eyes met the ronin did not look away. Charlie felt his resolve slipping under that steady dark gaze. The ronin leaned in and growled at him.

"Listen pup, I have to go. I...it's...if..." he suddenly glanced away again, his brow breaking out into a slight sweat. Charlie breathed out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. He'd just won his second stare-down ever, and both times with a man he knew could probably easily kill him. He watched the ronin shake his head and turn away again. "Don't follow me, no one should follow me. Not again...not the fall..."

"You promised her you'd be there," said Charlie softly. The ronin froze. "You said you've never broken your word before. Is that really true?" The ronin bowed his head, his shoulders sagged.

"It was...once."

"Come with me," he urged, "I think we'll need you to get out of this city alive."

* * *

Okay, I fibbed about the name. But I'm holding onto it for my own reasons and shall reveal it in my own time. At the moment you're all supposed to share some of Charlie's confusion and lack of understanding about the ronin and what happened in The Pit. Stay tuned though, all shall be revealed in time.


	4. Darkening of Clouds

Greetings to thee fascinated by the slow fall of heroes. I just want to take a bit of time to thank all the people who have offered reviews for this story. I really do try to fix whatever it is that's pointed out as bad, and clarify things suggested as confusing. I really appreciate the feedback that this tale seems to have gleaned from all of you. This chapter is the final gathering point. The last few players are assembled as I prepare to send them out on their final quest. Of note is the return of Leona and Snapback to the tale (thanks go to Tremere for pointing out how I seemed to have been ignoring them. Don't be worried though, they'll both have bigger parts to play yet.) Also I offer a brief glimpse into some of the demons that haunt Dominic and perhaps explain to the reader why he acts like he does.

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter Four: Darkening of Clouds

"Pups and pissy people first!" Jo motioned towards the window. The ronin frowned at her as he climbed through it and onto the ledge, the bundled up box slung over his shoulder. Charlie climbed through next, both disappeared over the edge. Dominic spun around as he heard the front door smash in. He raised his klaive, the shining reflection of the rune of duty glinting across his eyes. He growled as he sprang through the kitchen door and back into the living room. His powerful black and white crinos form easily carrying across the room faster then the surprised cops could follow. Behind him he heard Jo shout in annoyance. The men were dressed like police. But Dominic knew they were neither real police, nor real men. They quickly tried to recover from his surprisingly speedy entry and raised their guns, the rifles and pistols aiming for his heart.

Dominic's hand grabbed onto the mattress and effortlessly flung it across the room towards the door. Bullets snapped out, some ripping through or around the mattress to slap into the wall around him. Dominic quickly charged forward with an inhuman burst of speed, slamming his body right into the mattress even as it struck them. Three of them were knocked off their feet and pinned under it. He ignored them as he raised his klaive and leapt into the remaining five in the hallway. They fired wildly as he spun and slashed at them. He gutted one easily with his first stroke, then quickly spun back and tore the curved back of his blade across another one's jugular. He ducked sharply as a third fired a rifle at his chest, the bullet instead struck home in the cop Dominic had been standing in front of. Dominic sprang upward again, his hand swept out and his claws tore open the gunman's throat and chest. He turned on the last with an ominous growl.

"Look out!" Jo's fearful cry alerted him to the three who had torn themselves out from under the mattress. He grabbed the last man in the hallway and pulled him between him and the others as they fired. The bullets tore apart the cop's body as he screamed in pain. Dominic hissed as a few of the bullets scored glancing hits. Silver! He had expected as much. He dropped his ersatz shield and leapt backward over the edge of the hallway and into the stairwell. As he dropped he saw them shouting and rushing forward, ready to shoot at him. But he wasn't planning on falling far...instead he grabbed onto the bottom edge of the balcony and swung into the hallway directly under them. Even as he landed he bunched his legs under him and sprang straight up. With a roar he shattered through the floor and burst up amidst them. His claws and blade lashed out and tore apart all three before they could react with more then fear.

"Move it Josephine," he snarled into the apartment, hoping she would finally take wing and get out of this madhouse. He turned and started down the stairwell. She sprinted after him, springing over the hole in the walkway. Her short legs working overtime to keep pace with him as he loped easily down the stairs six at a time.

"Slow down willya! Why the hell are you going out the front! Hey, literally slow down!" He paused and glanced up as she continued to scamper after him, he frowned at her.

"Why follow," he growled out with his fanged maw. She rushed down the last few steps to him.

"Because I know you well enough to know you've still got to be hurting bad, and just aren't admitting it," she gasped. He scowled, he was indeed using one of his gifts to ignore the pain and debilitating effects of the lung wound. He'd be fine, at least as long as he had the mental stamina to keep resisting the pain. Still...it might not hurt to have a friend to watch his back. Even if that friend was her. He nodded and motioned towards the front entrance.

"They never think we leave this way," he managed to growl out. It was always such a bother trying to speak human with the partial mouth of a wolf. Jo didn't seem convinced but she motioned for him to lead on.

"Well, let's go then. Just try to-" He was already moving. He leaped off the stairs and dropped the last two stories into the main lobby. The landlord was standing behind his counter and talking worriedly with two officers and the man in a trench coat who was flashing a badge. All four looked up in surprise as Dominic hit the ground, his klaive flashing and teeth bared. The landlord took one look, screamed in terror, and spun away to rush out the front door in a blind panic. Both of the cops went for their guns. The man in the trench coat snarled as he stepped back behind them. Dominic sprang forward in a black blur. He reached the cops long before they could get out their guns, he tore them open and tossed them aside. The bloody bodies slamming hard into the walls with loud wet splats.

"Die dog," snarled the detective as he tore open his coat. His chest split open, the ribs pulling apart the flesh to reveal his innards. Bile and gore spilled out from his stomach and gushed out the hole to splatter along the floor in front of him. A coiled mass burst forth from his chest in a spray of blood as it snapped for Dominic's face. The Shadow Lord sprang back quickly, barely avoiding the attack. Dominic raised his klaive as he eyed the man. The detective's eyes had started to glow eerily as the massive scorpion tail protruding from his chest cavity withdrew again. Its pointed black barb dribbled a few drops of greenish liquid, they sizzled as they hit the floor.

"Fomori," growled Dominic as his eyes narrowed. One of the corrupted humans in service to the Wyrm, granted deadly mutations to help it serve as a foot soldier for the darkness. This creature was obviously far more deadly then his fellows who lay dead about him.

"C'mon fleabag," sneered the fomor as it reached under its coat to grab its own gun. "Do you wanna die up close by poison, or far away by silver?"

"Neither," snarled Dominic coldly as he hurled his arm forward. His klaive hissed through the air. The fomor screamed as the mystical blade sank deep into his throat. The creature staggered and dropped to one knee as it grabbed at the hilt of the blade. Dominic wasted no time, he sprang forward again, his claws ripping the mutant's head from its shoulders. Jo finally reached the bottom of the stairs as he was yanking his blade out of its throat.

"Holy hell in a hand-basket," she gasped as she looked at the carnage. Dominic ignored her as he shifted back to his human shape and rushed up to the doorway. He peeked through it quickly as he slipped his klaive under his coat. The street was clear.

"Let's move, that human didn't alert them yet." He opened the door and quickly rushed down the steps and started to race along the sidewalk. Jo came sprinting after him as they raced down the dark streets. Behind them they could hear the distant echoing howls of the Dancers as they found that their prey had slipped past them once again. Jo giggled in glee at the sound as she ran down a crooked alleyway.

"Man do they sound pissed off. Though at least not as pissed off as they'd be if pissed on. I'd like to see that, literally. Literally I'd like to see them pissed on." Dominic zoned her out, his senses paying sharp attention to the streets around them. They rushed away from the derelict neighborhood that the ronin called home. They again raced out onto a crowded street back in a more populous section of the city. Dominic turned and looked around, sniffing the air slightly to ensure they had gotten away clean. Jo bent over and leaned on her knees while gasping for air.

"We're away," said Dominic as he slipped his hands into his coat and started walking through the crowds. His eyes scanned the mass of humans, alert for any danger from the faceless hordes that surrounded them. "At least for now." Jo stumbled after him, still breathing heavily.

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine," she said with a sigh. "I'm really feeling the positive influence of your leadership." He reached out and patted her on the head affectionately as they walked. As he pulled his hand back he frowned and looked down at the smear of blood on his palm.

"Josephine," he said worriedly as he grabbed her shoulder. "Were you hurt?" 

"What? No, why would I..." He spun her around and examined her head anxiously for any sign of damage. He found none. "Um, Dominic," she said softly as she reached under his coat, he looked down as her fingers came back stained with blood. "I think your shoulder got hit."

"The silver bullets," he said with a snort. "Blasted silver wounds are always big bleeders. Just the allergic reaction. It's probably not as serious as it looks." He turned and started walking again, shoving her along with him.

"Damn man," she moaned "just how hurt are you now? Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine Josephine."

"For how long?"

"Long enough." 

* * *

Stinkface and his pack rushed down the alley. The whole plan had been shot to hell! Those pathetic human worms that Fer-guath had sent to help had proved useless. Dominic and his friends had torn through them like wet tissue paper. He growled in the back of his throat as he ran, behind him came Rockcrusher and Treeshaker. Who knew where Dominic and the other stinking Garou were now. They had to enclose the trap, cut them off. Suddenly Stinkface paused. He held up his hand to halt his packmates. He shifted, his human form expanding as he returned to his crinos state. His nose sniffed the wind carefully, his ears twitched. He knew that smell! He knew that voice! 

He quickly turned to the others and motioned up at the roof of the building they were running past. Both Treeshaker and Rockcrusher glanced at one another. Then with a shrug they too shifted, their pale and thin human guises reshaping into their powerful black crinos forms. Treeshaker tilted her head back, her delicate and long nose sniffing slightly. Her yellow eyes flared open as she caught the scent, she suddenly grinned at him. Stinkface felt his own lips part in a feral smile as he nodded back. He hopped up, his claws sinking into cracks between the bricks of the building. He quickly began to scale. His powerful and long arms easily pulling him up the side of the building. Soon the voice came to him clearer, the accursed voice. The voice that haunted him in his nightmares.

"Can I look? Can I look? Can I look? I wanna look. I wanna look. I wanna look. Can I look? Can I look? Can I look? I wanna look. I wanna..."

"Silence! It is my spyglass. I shall use it." Stinkface frowned at the sound of the second voice. He didn't know it. His rubbery lips peeled back from his dripping fangs. But it didn't matter, he would have his revenge! "Besides, all that I can see is the Spirals milling about in the apartment. Their quarry is long gone."

"Well...okay. But if you don't let me see I'll just have to sing a song to entertain myself. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of beer."

"Fine! Here!" Stinkface pulled himself quietly over the edge of the roof. He slunk down to all fours and slipped up to a nearby AC unit. His ears twitched slightly in eagerness as he lifted his head to peer over the AC. He could make out two figures crouched on the far edge of the building. Both resting on their haunches as they perched on the stone edging that encircled the rooftop. They looked almost like normal humans, but if he concentrated the outer illusion seemed to fade as he looked at their true selves. One was a lean young man, his black cape billowing about him. The second was a smaller shape. Her head covered in blue and purple feathers. The glimmering sparkles on her shoes glinting in the lights of the city. Rockcrusher and Treeshaker pulled themselves over the edge. Their teeth flashed as the spotted the faerie. They grinned eagerly.

"Awwww, now everything just looks further away."

"You look through the other end."

"Oh....oh! That's better." Stinkface stood and took a few careful steps forward. Suddenly the young man spun around. His black gloved hand fell to the hilt of a sword sheathed at his side. His silvery eyes narrowed as he eyed them. The female spun about too, her bright eyes widening in surprise. "This is bad," she chirped with a grin. The young man gripped his sword. He was still crouched on the edge of the roof, but had shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. Stinkface could tell he was ready to spring. He grinned. Let the fool.

"You dead, bitch!" Rockcrusher pointed one of his gnarled claws at the female. Her companion glanced over at her with a sneer.

"Seems like they know you pretty well already." The female scowled slightly as she glared up at him, he smirked. Stinkface chuckled as he started walking forward slowly. He was going to enjoy this.

"Tell me. Do you think you can outfight three Spirals?"

"Not really."

"Then we better run. Get going, I'll cover you."

"What?" The young man glanced back at her, his face indignant. "No, you run. I'll hold them." Stinkface snorted in amusement. His packmates started to growl, he could feel his muscles growing ready. He suddenly roared as he began to charge. Behind him Treeshaker and Rockcrusher started to charge as well.

"No time to argue now." She suddenly jabbed out her elbow, punching it hard into the man's belly. Pushed off balance he only managed an undignified shout of surprised anger as he tipped backwards off the roof. In the same instant her hand was crammed deep into her pocket. Stinkface and his pack ran with all their speed. Their claws extended as they neared the hated foe. She suddenly tossed a large handful of silvery items on the ground. Stinkface roared in surprised pain as his foot came down hard on the metal. He felt them slide about under his feet, tossing him off balance as they burned him. He and his pack collapsed in pain as the faerie laughed at them. Stinkface felt his blood run to burning as he heard her again start one of her accursed singing rhymes.

"Aww the wolfs are ma-ad. They thought themselves so ba-ad. But now they frown, cause they didn't look down. Of tiddlywinks I am so gla-ad!" She turned and hopped off the roof. Tiddlywinks? Stinkface looked around himself. Indeed the small silvery bits of metal were just that. He glanced over at the other two as they gingerly began pushing the tiddlywinks away from themselves. Small patches of red and irritated skin marking where the painful disks of silver had touched. Their eyes burning in anger. Stinkface tilted his head back as he roared into the dark sky.

"I'm gonna kill you, bitch!!!" 

* * *

"What's the problem," asked Charlie as he lurked in the shadows next to the ronin.

"I'm not sure, something just feels bad about this place." The ronin pressed his ear up to the wall of the warehouse and sniffed slightly. "It just doesn't smell like a hideout for Garou."

"It's the place Jo told us about," said Charlie as he turned and motioned towards the back door. "The least we could do is knock or something." The ronin glanced up and seemed about to argue, then his face went slack and he shrugged.

"I guess," he sighed. Charlie walked over to the door and knocked on it a few times. There was a soft click and hum, and then the door swung open. Charlie peered into the dim room beyond, but couldn't see anyone who might have opened it. He felt an odd chill of disquiet run down his spine as he looked into the empty warehouse.

"Now I think I have a problem with it too," he growled as he took a step forward and looked around. The entire bottom floor of the warehouse took up two stories and was filled with massive piles of boxes and crates. He stepped through the door and started walking down one of the narrow paths between the storage. "Hello? Anyone here?" The ronin followed him in, his eyes darting about as he looked over the desolate building.

"I see nothing," he said quietly, Charlie nodded. He then paused as he spotted one of the boxes. It was labeled as 'focusing mirror plates'. Charlie grinned to himself as he reached over and started ripping through the tape sealing the box. The ronin glanced at him curiously. "What in the world are you doing?"

"I'm gonna look at things from a different angle," said Charlie as he plunged his hand into the swarm of packing peanuts inside the box. The ronin suddenly nodded in understanding as Charlie pulled out a small mirrored disk.

"Be careful." Charlie nodded and then turned to look into the plate. His senses focused all thought on the silvered surface of the mirror. The small dancing lights shone in it like reflected stars on a lake at night. He felt himself starting to move, even as he stayed motionless. He knew then he was stepping sideways, entering into the spirit realm known as the Penumbra. He looked away from the mirror, slipping it safely into the pocket of his torn jeans as he looked around.

The Penumbra was the spiritual reflection of the real world, and within the mystical twilight realm you could see the truth of many things. The ronin stood quietly in the warehouse, his spirit a faded and diminished thing. The warehouse itself was only a dim shadowy reflection of the boxes and crates. But it was not any of this that caught his attention, it was the pattern web. The pattern web was created, unknowingly, by the humans as they brought order to the wilds of nature. The webs usually spanned cities and crawled along roads. But within this building they hung as thickly as one could ever hope to find.

The walls were strung with sharp and heavy masses, the thick web acting as a sort of shield against any possible spiritual invaders. Thin little filament lines stretched and hung throughout the building. Charlie watched in terror as the ronin shifted slightly and brushed one of those lines, it quickly began a slight humming. He followed the warning line upward and gasped as he saw what hung above them. A huge swirl of netting held aloft a swarming bundle of information webs. Flashing blue lights danced and moved along the webs, information flowing in and out of the nest. He could see the pattern spiders moving about the nest, their gleaming spinnerets creating more and more intricate designs in the massive nest. He saw their flashing red eyes twist to look at him, he screamed as he quickly started to shift back into the real world. 

The spiders fell towards him as he tried to break through the barrier between worlds. 

* * *

Jo followed after Dominic's slow and faltering steps. His face had gone pale again, and his breath hissed through clenched teeth. He had given out about eight blocks form the warehouse, Jo could only pray that the Black Spiral Dancers didn't find them before they reached the safe house. Dominic paused and leaned up against a wall, his arm shook slightly as he breathed in large gulps of air.

"How much further," he asked Jo for about the twelfth time.

"Two blocks, we're almost there," she paused as she watched his pale sweating face. "Literally," she added helpfully. Dominic chuckled softly at the joke as he pushed himself upright again.

"Then we should get going, shouldn't we?" He continued the walk, each step eliciting a slight gasp of pain from him. But he didn't stop, nor slow again. Jo shook her head at the foolish pride of it all as they slipped out of a back alley and headed once more towards the warehouse.

"Why couldn't you have just cut him a break," asked Jo as she walked along next to him. Dominic glared down at her.

"Jo, I do not wish to discuss this with you. It is a matter that is none of your concern."

"Why is that? I was there, I went down there just like the rest of you."

"It has nothing to do with your being there or not," snarled Dominic. He shook his head and glanced upwards. He nodded his head slightly to the curved crescent moon glittering over the city. "This matter is as much your concern, as Luna dictated your birth. It is a matter between Garou."

"Oh, and here I thought it was a matter between friends."

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Understand what," snapped Jo in irritation. "That you turned on him? That you helped drive him away? That you banished him and took his name?" Dominic suddenly spun on her, his eyes wide with anger. He snarled as he grabbed her coat and shook her slightly.

"You were there Jo, but did you see? Did you stand in the mouth of the temple and watch the battle. Did you watch the madness on the bridge and see what happened there?" He shook her again, his voice growing colder and more angry. Jo stared back at him, her face petulant. Dominic snarled at the accusation in her eyes. "If you had seen what I had seen then you would not question my actions. Or, if you did, you would not question them for being too harsh!" Dominic shoved her back from him and lowered his gaze. "No...not for being too harsh."

"You took from him what it is to be Garou," said Jo angrily. "What would you call that if not harsh? You took his name and all he could ever be remembered for. That's as good as destroying his soul as far as you crazy wolves are concerned. What is that if not harsh, literally harsh!"

"Harsh?" Dominic snarled as he glared at the ground. "Harsh!?!" He suddenly was gripping her about the throat. Jo gasped in surprised fear as his klaive seemed to fly into his hand and hiss to within a mere inch of her face. Her wide eyes grew yet wider as the silvered gleam of the blade flashed before her. Dominic's snarling face was only a few inches away. The gleam of his klaive glinted on his dark features. The rune of duty sparkling across his eyes. "What do you know of it Corax? I am Philodox. I am judge of the Ways. I am judge of my people. I am executor of the Litany. I am death to those who break its cause."

Jo shivered in fear at the gleam in Dominic's glare. Her eyes watched the klaive glint before her face, the silvered runes gleaming within the hardened bone of the blade. Then, as suddenly as he had grabbed her, Dominic's grasp relaxed. Jo quickly fell back a few steps and watched him warily. Dominic simply stood motionless, his eyes looking over his blade. Finally he grinned thinly and a small chuckle escaped his lips. He pulled open his dark coat and once again the blade of silver and bone disappeared into the darkness. He looked up at her and smiled weakly.

"I am sorry Josephine. I should not have done that. But you should not discuss that matter with me again, the issue is closed."

"Okay man," Jo whispered with a small nod. "I really didn't mean to upset you. It's just that-" Dominic's eyes snapped over to glare at her warningly. Jo quickly swallowed her words. "Right, maybe we should just try to get to the meeting spot soon."

"Good idea," agreed Dominic as he motioned for her to lead on. They walked quietly through the back streets and alleys. Jo no longer daring to try her hand at any more conversation. Finally they stepped out into a small open area between a few warehouses. Jo eagerly pointed at one.

"This is it," she exclaimed with a smile as she skipped up to the back door and knocked. It swung open by itself, Jo grinned. "C'mon Dominic, we're here!" He nodded and slowly followed her in. His face had grown grim though, as if he suspected something about the place. Jo walked in smiling and shouting. "Yo Syntax! Where you at? Literally! Where are you?" Jo suddenly paused as she spotted the slim figure in a black body-suit that crouched over two motionless forms. "Oh no," she hissed as she charged forward. 

* * *

The lodge sat on a small patch of flat ground on the side of the hill. Above it loomed the high rocky peaks of a mountain range. Far below it could be seen the distant gleam of the lights of Detroit. The woods were thick on the hill. Even in the peaceful night sounds could be heard. The rustling of squirrels. The gentle sway of the trees in the wind. The soft lapping of a nearby brook. The distant call of an owl on the hunt. The loud and cursing growl of a wolf...

"Why the hell are we sitting here when we should be in the city looking for them?" 'Leona' Throatripper asked with a snarl as she paced back and forth in front of the cabin in the woods. She had reverted to her lupus form during the run back to the sept and hadn't bothered to change back. Staying in her natural wolf state usually helped her relax. But with her pack shattered and packmates possibly dead she was simply overflowing with undirected need for action. They had returned and spoken to the elders. Leona had expected a quick and sharp response. Instead the council had thanked them and asked them to wait for their decision. Nearby Snapback glanced up at her from where he sat on a tree stump.

"We told the council of elders what happened. Now it is for them to decide, and us to wait."

"I'll wait when I'm dead," growled Leona as she turned on Snapback. Her burning and angry gaze locked with his. He was still in his crinos form and simply glared back at her. Leona's hackles rose slightly as she began to growl louder. For some reason Snapback was just starting to anger her. She could understand that perhaps he had learned to accept his packmates possible deaths more easily then she. After all, he had lost a pack before. She just wished he'd stop expecting the same of her.

"The council will decide what is best. We should just rest." Leona's lips curled back in anger. Neither of their gazes had wavered. Snapback growled slightly in the back of his throat. The deep rumble echoing about his chest. He lifted his hunched shoulders slightly as his eyes bored into hers. Leona's back went stiff as she slowly backed off a step. After another pause she turned her head to the side. Snapback grunted in approval as he relaxed again. "We shall wait, the council will do what is right."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly as she plopped down on the ground and rested her head on her paws. After what seemed like an eternity she heard the door open. She looked up eagerly as five figures slipped out of the cabin and marched off quickly into the dark woods. She glanced up curiously at Snapback, wondering why none of the council had bothered to speak to them. Then she heard voices rising in anger from within the cabin. She snarled slightly and padded forward.

"....your own blood and you shall leave him there to rot?"

"It is still a question whether he is dead or not. Do you believe that Dominic would so easily succumb to a pack of Dancers?" Leona recognized the voices as the two competing heads of the council. The first was Lord Moros Argent of the Silver Fangs. Once leader of the local tribes. The second was Marn 'The One-Eyed', lord of the Get of Fenris tribes and commander of the largest caern in the state, The Raging Falls caern. It was well known the two hadn't gotten along in years. Though it was rare to hear them become so vocal about it.

"I don't question Dominic's ability. What I question is your motives. Did you not once call him friend?" Leona watched as the doors swung open again and Marn stormed out of the building. The Get lord was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a worn red flannel shirt. He stood six feet tall and his wild gray hair grew in a thick beard and long locks that hung past his shoulders. His worn face was twisted into a scowl. The empty socket of his right eye seeming to hold just as much anger as his left one. Marn turned his head as he growled back into the cabin.

"You too once called him friend. Whatever happened there? Surely nothing to do with him calling into question your ability to lead the tribes." Lord Argent fell silent. Marn turned and hopped off the porch of the cabin. Behind him came the towering figure of Grendal the Caern Warder for Raging Falls, and Marn's enforcer and right hand. He wore his usual combat fatigues. The shirt sleeve of his left arm was pinned up, as Grendal had lost it in battle many years ago. His face was dispassionate and grim as always. Leona quickly scampered back out of their way as they walked down the path back towards the caern heart. The door creaked open as Lord Moros Argent poked his head out and watched the two depart

He slowly turned to look down at her. Leona felt herself grow still under that quiet and watchful gaze. She glanced up at the wizened and stately looking older man leaning on a walking cane. He looked about sixty, though Leona knew he was much older. Lord Argent, the great warrior and Theurge. How pale and sickly he looked now. But there was still a near palpable aura of greatness about him. Leona could well remember the stories around the campfires of her youth. Could recall the awe on others faces as they spoke of Lord Argent. Tales of his bravery, and how he had conceived of the plan to finally destroy Tyranthraxus.

"You there," Argent's voice sounded slightly unsure. His manner seeming uncomfortable and nervous for some reason. Leona cocked her head curiously at the tone, not expecting that trace of weakness in such a hero. "You were a member of that pack, yes? The one that Dominic led into Detroit?" His rheumy eyes focused in on her as he beckoned for her to come to him. His mouth softly shifted into a comfortable grin, all nervousness seeming to leave him. "Please, I have an important question to ask of you. Both of you."

Leona glanced back at Snapback. He scowled, obviously not interested. However, she wished to know what had happened with the council and thus eagerly loped up onto the porch. Snapback growled slightly as he followed, shifting slowly back into his homid form. His jeans and shirt seeming to form back with him. He stood up and stretched his broad shoulders. His hatchet shaped face still drawn up in a dark frown. They followed Argent into the great lodge of the tribes. The inside of the cabin was primarily one large room covered in trophies. The large wooden support posts that held up the vaulted ceiling were covered with carved stories and songs of the great battles and heroes of the local tribes. Leona couldn't help but bow her head slightly as she entered, feeling the great weight of the fallen heroes who had come and gone before her. She knew it was the wish of all Garou to be thus remembered, to be immortalized for their greatest deeds.

Her eyes danced over some of the trophies and items. The great battle-axe of the Get Ahroun, Strength-of-Bear, who had founded the caern. Its oaken handle worn smooth by years of use. Its gleaming blade notched, but still sharp. Nearby was the shattered remains of the staff of Storms-Through-Trees. The famous Theurge who had given his life to first imprison Tyranthraxus when the great demon beast had assaulted the caern many years ago. Finally she spotted the rolled up scroll next to the door. The original written record immortalizing the heroes who had battled and crushed the demon's evil when he had attempted to return. She knew well the names. She looked back at Lord Argent, pointedly reminded of his past deeds.

"Please child, shift to the homid. We have matters to discuss that cannot be accomplished in the tongue of the wolves." Leona shifted. She felt her warm coat of fur fade away to be replaced by soft pink skin. Felt her legs lengthen and loose their easy spring. Felt her bones shift and grow as they painfully stretched out. She quickly stood up, annoyed at the strange ungainliness of two legged movement. She watched the aged leader of the Silver Fangs. He walked over to the great table of the tribes and pulled out a chair. He sank into it slowly with a slight, yet contented, sigh. As he looked up one of his silvered eyebrows lifted slightly. "No clothes?"

"You wished to talk, not compare fashions," growled Leona tartly. Snapback chuckled slightly from behind her. Leona ignored him and crossed her arms over her bare chest. She had never understood the human's need to clothe themselves even in comfortable weather. She looked back at Argent. "What is this issue that must be spoken of as a human?"

"Betrayal."

"Betrayal," echoed Leona in surprise. Argent had been right, they had to be in homid to talk of this. For wolves had no word for the base treachery that was a human invention alone. Leona brushed some of her wild blonde hair back from her face. "What betrayal?"

"Something is amiss in the tribes. Something with Lord Marn."

"You should be careful of saying such things," snarled Snapback as he took a step forward. Lord Argent glanced over slowly at the glowering Ahroun. His worn eyes narrowed slightly. Leona could swear that for a brief instant he looked more like the great and powerful warrior of old. Snapback's eyes widened slightly as he nervously blinked in fear.

"It is also very interesting how this ambush happened. It was a quick plan, few knew of it. Yet not only were you ambushed by the Dancers. But you were assaulted by practically every warrior they could muster. Does it not seem strange? It is almost as though they knew Dominic would be there with only a small force. An easy way to remove a threat, is it not?"

"Perhaps coincidence," said Snapback with a shake of his head. Leona half wanted to agree with him. She didn't like the thought that the Dancers may have been warned of the arrival of Dominic and her pack. She felt her head throb slightly in annoyance. She growled slightly and rubbed at her temples to ease the pressure, uneasy with having to think of such plots. How she despised the humans and their deceiving ways! "What if the Spirals just saw us enter the city? Perhaps they noticed us waiting for the truck." 

"Perhaps." Argent shrugged slightly, his eyes glancing over Snapback carefully. He then turned back to Leona. "The council has decided not to take any action about your pack." Leona's lips lifted into a snarl, her back grew tense. She couldn't believe it. "I cannot understand why Marn would abandon his own blood and his old friend to a hunting pack of Dancers," continued Argent. "It is not like him to be afraid of battle."

"Then why?" Leona felt a whine of begging enter into her voice. "Why was it done?"

"That is what I intend to find out. I intend to actually enter into Detroit to find and help Dominic and the others. I hope that in so doing I can discover what it is that has so afflicted Marn with caution and fear. And what may have caused the Dancers to learn of your raid." 

"But Lord," said Leona worriedly, "you are not as...healthy as you once were. Is this a wise choice of action?" He nodded slowly at her question. He then tilted his head back and looked around the lodge, his eyes dancing along all the old glory of the days long past. Finally he seemed to grin as he looked back to her.

"Wisdom is sometimes superseded by the need for men to take brave action. Marn will not, thus it falls to me." Argent leaned forward slightly, resting his hands upon the top of his cane and leaning his chin upon them. His pale eyes moved back and forth between Leona's and Snapback's faces. "Unfortunately my tribe's numbers are ever small in this area. Do you wish to come with me and aid your pack? It could be very dangerous." Leona felt a feral grin spreading across her face. She stepped forward and dropped to one knee before Argent.

"Lord, it would be my pleasure!" 

* * *

Charlie's eyes slowly blinked open, he groaned and looked around. He was laying on the floor of the warehouse, the ronin was next to him. He shook his head and tried to rise, but found that he couldn't. He growled in annoyance and tried again, a painful burn started to lance up his arms and back as he struggled.

"Kindly desist your meaningless endeavor," said a frigid voice. Charlie twisted his head slightly to look over the ronin's body to the speaker. It was a young woman dressed in a form fitting black spandex body-suit. The material glistened under the harsh light of the warehouse, showcasing the lithe body it covered. The woman's midnight black hair hung to her shoulders, there it appeared to have been cut off In a rough and unskilled manner. Various clumps hung at differing levels as the thick hair curled slightly at the jagged ends. Her tapering beautiful face and finely boned features were offset by the dark glower of her gray eyes as she looked down at them. Her face seemed almost washed out and childlike, until Charlie realized it was because she wore no makeup.

"Who the hell are you," he growled as he again tried to rise, he snarled in pain as he felt his back again twist and pull in anguish.

"Getting up would be a tactical mistake. You are quite firmly attached to the pattern of the cement floor here. I would steadfastly advise against shifting forms, I am unsure what results that would engender. I would hazard an assumption of a seventy-eight percent probability that it would shred the skin from your body though." Her voice was clipped and short, she had pulled out a small black box that almost seemed to resemble a transistor radio. She looked down at it with a frown as she tapped some buttons. Charlie heard a low groan as the ronin woke.

"What the hell," he moaned as his eyes fluttered open. He looked about warily, his head quickly turning to Charlie.

"It was a trap, a big Weaver nest," said Charlie quickly. "We're attached to the floor, don't try to get up or shift." The ronin nodded slightly as he turned to glance up at the woman.

"Who are you," he asked.

"Your captor," she quickly responded. "Please be quiet, I am dealing with the damage you did to my home." Her fingers danced lightly over the device in her hands as she looked around the large room.

"We know Jo," said the ronin, "I don't suppose you're her friend?" Charlie almost hissed in annoyance at his own foolishness, he should have asked that already. The woman paused and glanced up, she nodded slightly and went back to her work. "Jo told us to come here, she said it would be a safe place to rest."

"What is the password?" Charlie and the ronin glanced at each other. Charlie groaned.

"She didn't tell us about any password."

"There is some probability of truth in those words, Josephine Corven is a rather unreliable source of facts. But I believe I shall continue to restrain you for now." She put away her device and looked down at them. Her eyes flashed quickly over Charlie's torn clothes and wounds, and the ronin's blood stained hands and package. She kneeled down and pulled the box to her as she started to unwrap it.

"What the hell are you doing," growled the ronin in annoyance.

"Going through your things with the same impunity you felt upon invading my home," she replied icily. She pulled the box free of the blanket and eyed the lock with a frown. The ronin grinned slightly.

"Don't think I'm going to tell you the combination."

"You do not need to," came her curt reply as she leaned down to the lock. "Open for me," her chill voice whispered softly. Charlie rolled his eyes at her strangeness and then froze as he heard a dull click.

"Glass Walker," hissed the ronin softly. "That explains the pattern spiders." She glanced up and nodded at his words. Charlie's eye widened as he looked at the woman again. A Glass Walker? The Garou tribe who had turned their backs upon Gaia to live within the cities like the Bone Gnawers. But at least the Gnawers claimed to be helping the poor and destitute humans of the city. The Glass Walkers sought to master machinery and the systems of mankind. They were considered traitors to the cause of Gaia, having sold their souls to the cold and calculating machinations of the Weaver.

She stretched out one slim hand and opened the box. She reached into it and Charlie heard her rustling papers and shifting about other items. The ronin scowled and looked away, his face no longer calm, but flushed with impotent anger. Charlie watched her lean over, her wide gray eyes dancing back and forth as she looked through the box. Suddenly she paused, she glanced up at the ronin and then back at the box. She slowly reached up and closed the lid, the lock snapped shut again. She opened her mouth and seemed about to speak when there came a distant knocking. They all paused as they heard a door open and the shrill cries of a certain Corax.

"Yo Syntax! Where ya at? Literally! Where are you?" Syntax lifted her head at the shout. Charlie sighed in relief. "Oh no," came Jo's hissed words as they heard her feet running forward. "Hey! Sphinx! The password is sphinx! Don't hurt those two they're friends!"

"Now she remembers the password," snarled Charlie as he saw Jo run up and grab Syntax's arm. The Glass Walker stood up and looked at Jo with a frown.

"What is going on, and who are these two people you are sending into my home to rip up my orderly designs?"

"Oh, sorry about that," said Jo with a shrug. "Had nowhere else to go. And there's three of them, not two." She turned to motion to the slowly advancing shape of Dominic. He drew up short as he spotted the Glass Walker. Syntax frowned as she looked back at him. Both of their faces twitched slightly, Dominic shifted uneasily and scowled. Syntax turned to glance down icily at Jo, who smirked and shrugged again. "Uh...we're just looking to rest up and heal."

"Very well," said Syntax coldly, "I suppose you better come upstairs." 

* * *

Kendar watched Pugdog once again describe the battle to Endelon. The master assassin stood quietly, his arms crossed and his face still gently smiling as he listened. Already Pugdog was telling more of the truth, and Endelon hadn't even asked him for it. Amazing how nervous that soft smile could make even the most feral Dancer. After the failed attack at the apartment the Dancers had drifted off to recover in the sewers. The dark and twisting tunnels more home to them then the streets above. The human pigs who claimed to serve the Wyrm had announced they would track down the Garou and contact the Dancers when they had. Kendar hated dealing with the apes, but realized they did know more about the city then he and his men. Finally Pugdog finished and Endelon glanced up to Kendar, the simple motion implying he believed the pathetic cur. Kendar rose and walked forward, he grabbed Pugdog around the throat and dragged him forward till their eyes met.

"You are a worthless piece of cow-dung not fit to master a woman much less a pack!" Around them the other Dancers chuckled. Teeth flashed in the darkness. Soon Pugdog would face many fights from others who felt he had shown weakness. Kendar would be impressed if he survived for long once they returned to the Hive. "You once commanded four, who is left now?"

"Tick and Quiggis," gasped Pugdog. Kendar glanced up as the two Dancers shuffled forward, both bearing nasty gashes and holes around their eyes, their faces still stained with blood. They hung their heads as Kendar shook Pugdog again.

"No, you command none! Your pack is to join another." He glared up and looked around, there were at least three packs he felt were too small and needed the help. But he paused as he caught sight of one. Perfect! "You will run with Stinkface and his," sneered Kendar as he shoved Pugdog away from him. He saw the swell of Stinkface's chest. Even as Pugdog turned to glare at the whelp. Yes this was perfect. Either the young pup would earn his leadership and become a worthwhile pack leader. Or Pugdog would kill him and regain his own sense of worth. Either way Kendar would have one strong pack and a strong leader instead of two weak ones with weak leaders. "Rest now, we will hunt again soon!"

The packs dispersed to find nearby places and dry sections they would claim as their own. The stronger and smarter packs would of course get the best places. Even in rest the Dancers trained to be better. Kendar nodded at Endelon and the two slipped quietly into a dark back section of the pipes. If such a thing as friendship could exist amongst the Black Spiral Dancers, then he and Endelon where friends. Each respected the others strengths, and complimented their weaknesses. Together they had dealt with every threat that had ever been placed before them. Together they had carved a bloody swath to positions of power within the sept.

"You should contact Fer-guath and tell him of the new ally," suggested Endelon quietly. Kendar nodded in agreement. Both of them knew how much the sept leader craved information. Kendar pulled out a shriveled human ear from within his coat and quickly spoke into it the new information. Endelon waited patiently with a smirk on his face. Kendar finished his report and shoved the ear back into his coat.

"So, what views do you hold of the hunt? What is interesting about our prey?"

"I crossed blades with Dominic at the lake," said Endelon quietly, his voice betraying no emotion. But Kendar spotted the slight gleam of pride in his old friend's eyes. He knew that even the faintest glimmer of emotion in Endelon's eyes was of note. "He is skilled and fast, he lives up to his legend."

"He who rends the darkness," muttered Kendar. "Be that as it may he shall not survive this hunt."

"I agree, he is good...but I am better. When next we meet I shall remove his heart from his body."

"You grow overeager my friend. Do you forget that you were placed in command of this hunt. Do not think I shall take your place so that you may rush off to gain glory on your own."

"And why not," asked Endelon with a small chuckle. "You have done so before, it is for you to lead and me to stalk." Kendar frowned, but offered no more opinion on the matter. "What do you think about the second? His ally at the lake."

"The second is a pup," snorted Kendar. "There is no threat there." Endelon nodded in agreement. "And he has the Corax with him. But she is meaningless, hardly worth the kill."

"Still, a bird crushed in the hand is worth more then two chased from the bush. She still serves the packs, she speaks secrets to them we wish hidden. Her removal will only strengthen us." Kendar nodded in agreement to the advice, Endelon's smirk faded as he leaned in closer. "But what of the last? He who drops a pack as though they were nothing?"

"I could have destroyed Pugdog's pack," snarled Kendar in annoyance.

"Ah, but so quickly and without being hit in turn?" Kendar scowled as he looked back to Endelon. But the quiet assassin wasn't questioning his skills, just seeking an accurate appraisal of the foe's ability. Kendar nodded in agreement.

"You are right, he is dangerous. But is he a match for you or I?" Endelon grinned again. "Come, we shall wait for those human fools to find the prey, then we shall hunt again." He turned and headed back into the pipes the rest of the packs had slunk into. "I believe I shall visit with Gorefist's pack. She seemed eager to have me again." The smile faded from Endelon's face, his lips curled back in disdain.

"More grunting and sweating. The wet slap of flesh on flesh. It is a waste of energy." Kendar ignored Endelon's complaints. It was well known within the tribe that the master assassin didn't lie down with anyone.

"Careful, if you are not the pups may start to believe you an eunuch."

"I care not what the pups think." 

Kendar shrugged and continued on his way. Endelon watched him go, then turned the other direction. He walked quietly through the dark sewer tunnels. Finally he reached his goal. The sewer cover slid back as he emerged once more onto the streets above. He wrapped his black robes about himself as he sniffed at the air. He wasn't content to allow the foolish apes to do his hunting for him. No, he was not going to allow them to botch another attempt. He would have Dominic's heart for himself. Endelon's calm smile returned. As always, his dark blue eyes shared none of the humor. 


	5. Storms Split The Sky

Wow, to anyone that has stuck with me this far I'd like to offer a special bit of thanks. When I started this story I never dreamed it would go on like it did. (If you care the original plan was to have only up to the fight atop the lake where the ronin would finally show up and save people and kick backside...needless to say things sort of ballooned out from there.) As of this post I think I've fixed my overactive........pause spaces in the whole piece. (Alert me if this is not so please.) Also this chapter contains a lot of philosophy and self introspection. Hopefully you'll learn more about all of the major characters. (I promise the next two chapters will overflow with violence and carnage though) As always questions/comments/rants/demands/and people who also love apple-butter may contact me at arcanloth@hotmail.com. 

P.S. *Special Notes* I would first like to thank Icy Mike Molson for his help in the entire werecrow argument. It was his idea and I bow down in thanks (and humbly rip him off for some of the dialogue) Second, FuryS Forge...you asked if you should consider Jo the traitor. I'd actually be very appreciative if you could tell me what spawned this thought/idea/personal madness of yours. (Y'know, which sections/actions made you suspect her) Besides all that, please read on and enjoy...  


Fall of The Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter 5: Storms Split The Sky 

"From what you had told me before I thought that one was long gone and useless," whined the man as he stood over his rune carved floor. His cry echoing through the dark cave tunnels. He nervously ran his hands along his belly, his face jerking about in anger and fear. He began pacing, his tattered black robes flowing about his bent and wiry body. The dark shadow who had been speaking frowned slightly.

"Do you question my knowledge?" The question was quiet and calm, but the man quickly shivered in terror and shook his head.

"Of course not my lord, of course not! I was simply...worried about the possibilities. If the bird is with them," the figure nervously twitched his face and brushed his fingers across it. "The bird...if the bird is there, and he is indeed alive and active. Then with Dominic three of them are together again. They could become a problem, especially if they return to the Fangs and collect Argent."

"Argent is an old buffoon well past his prime," said the shadow with a soft chuckle. "If he is so senseless as to crawl off his deathbed his meddling foolery will mean nothing. No, it is the others that concern me."

"But you have Fer-guath and his packs hunting them," reasoned the man as he leaned down and again began looking over his circle. "As well as the corrupted human corporation. Why do you need distract me? Go use your precious vampires and wolves and leave me in peace." The shadow shifted slightly, a finger on one of its hands lifted to point at the man. He suddenly gasped and reached up to grab at his face, feeling as though mountains of pressure were pushing in on his skull. He groaned as his eyes bulged and he felt as though his head would collapse under the strain. Then, as suddenly as it had come it was gone. He sighed as he looked up weakly at the quietly grinning shadow. "What would you have of me, master?"

"One is no matter, two is company, three is a crowd. But four? Four and they are no more. I do believe it is time for them to all get reacquainted." The shadow motioned down the tunnel, and towards the faintly seen green glow beyond. His intention was quite clear. "I do so love to see a completion to old problems, don't you? A closing of the circle, if you will."

"It could be dangerous lord. Do you have any idea how many I have lost trying to control..."

"That is your mistake. Control of a Garou is a dangerous and chancy thing. But do not worry, you are only needed to summon the weapon forth. I shall not make you use it."

"And," swallowed the man nervously, "you'll keep it away from..."

"Of course," purred the shadow as it glided forward and patted the man's head gently. I will make sure you come to no harm my dear friend. You are far too important to me to lose." The shadow suddenly ran pointed claws down to poke into the man's throat. "At least...," sneered the shadow leaning in close, "for now." The man nodded nervously and rose to gather his supplies.

"I'll start immediately, it shall be done within the hour!" 

* * *

The upper level of the warehouse proved to be the type of room that would make Bill Gates flush with envy. The only real light in the entire chamber came from the flashing lights and glowing screens of the swarms of computers that were stacked and positioned about the room. Charlie wandered around the room, in awe at the vast amount of gear and technological devices. He spotted the center of the vast network, a small circular space that had dozens of screens pointing at it. Various cables and wires all streamed across the floor until they entered the base of a black leather chair that sat in the middle of the circle. One of the arms of the chair had a keyboard attached to it. The other had a large flat device with a small pen laying upon it. He shook his head in confused awe at the mountains of equipment as he made his way back to the others.

"I'm so glad to see you two getting along so well," came Jo's cheerful voice.

"Yes," muttered Dominic, "interesting how many old friends I'm seeing this trip."

"You should probably get out more," chimed Jo, "obviously you're spending way too much time up at the caern and in council. You were always better in the field. Y'know, getting around and interacting with the people."

Dominic lay upon a large table. His coat and shirt had been removed and Syntax was pulling the wrappings away from his lung wound. Charlie looked in awe at the dozens of old scars crisscrossing the Shadow Lord's body. Syntax's small elegant fingers delicately probed at the lung wound as she eyed it critically. She nodded as she pulled a small device off a nearby cabinet and pointed it at the wound. A pale blue light was emitted from the end of the device, Syntax carefully shone it over the wound. Charlie gasped in surprise as he watched the injury slowly close up. Dominic's breathing became easier and he quickly sat up.

"Your shoulder should be seen to as well," she said as he hopped to his feet.

"See to the pup first, I'm fine," growled Dominic as he grabbed his shirt and began sliding it back on. Syntax glared at him for a moment and then turned to Charlie, she snapped her fingers sharply and pointed at the table. He sat on it and lay down as she eyed his wounds.

"Your face and gut will scar, but I can remove the lingering damage. I can also theoretically deal with that arm and patch up the claws on your ribs." She grabbed up the device and began to shine it onto the holes torn in his arm. Charlie glanced around the huge room again while she worked. Jo grinned at Dominic as he finished dressing. He quickly reached out and grabbed her by the back of her jacket. She stuttered in surprise as he dragged her off to go have a 'friendly' talk. The ronin had found a dark corner to crouch in quietly. He seemed to look at and hear nothing of what was going on around him. Charlie glanced back at Syntax as she started to examine his gut wound.

"So...what is it you do here?" He was curious to learn more about this odd Glass Walker, having never met one of their tribe.

"Is not that obvious?"

Not to me," he said with a slight chuckle.

"That is apparent," she promptly responded as she circled him and leaned in to look at the cut across the left side of his face.

"What are you saying," he asked in confusion.

"I only inferred what was evident," she said calmly.

"And what was so damn evident," growled Charlie as she tilted his head to the side and pointed the device at his face. He couldn't shake the feeling she was mocking him.

"That you are apparently blind to the obvious." Charlie frowned as he worked over the words in his head, he turned to glare up at her. She paused in her work and looked down at him.

"Are you calling me stupid?" 

She shook her head, "I never state the obvious." She pushed his head back to the side and resumed her work on his face. Charlie nodded.

"Oh...good," he softly muttered. He saw the ronin glance up then, his lips splitting into a small smile, but it was gone again so fast Charlie had to wonder if it had ever been there at all. She finished with his face and turned to poke and prod at the gashes along his ribs. Charlie watched her long fingers move with perfect discipline along the gashes. There never seemed to be a wasted movement by her, each delicate touch serving a purpose. He turned slightly to glance at Dominic, who was leaning down and speaking intently with Jo. "You knew Dominic already, didn't you?"

"Yes," she responded curtly, not bothering to glance up from her work.

"Where from?"

"That would seem obvious," she said as she brought the device up to the longest of the gashes and started to shine its blue light on the wound. He paused as he watched her work over his wounds.

"You know him because he's a renowned Garou," Charlie finally guessed. Syntax nodded slightly. "Well, I'm not arguing with that," said Charlie, "it's just that he seemed to recognize you too. And something about the way he looked was strange."

"Are you requesting of me to surmise his thoughts. If you are interested in emotions then perhaps you should talk to the one having them." She abruptly stood straight and set down the device. "Your wounds are acceptably rectified. You can get up now." She turned away and walked off towards the chair in the circle of computers. Charlie sat up and stretched. He did feel much better, no longer were muscles screaming in pain with each movement and breath. He hopped off the table and watched as Syntax slipped into her chair and pulled the keyboard around to sit in front of her. She swiveled the chair about till its back faced the others, hiding her from sight.

"Are all Glass Walkers like that," he said with a chuckle as he glanced over at the ronin.

"Are all Get of Fenris like you," sneered the ronin softly. Charlie winced slightly at the barb and shook his head.

"No, sorry, no offense meant."

"It was not me you offended," said the ronin as glanced up at Charlie. "But don't worry, I too did not mean my words to be painful." Charlie nodded as he walked over and sat down in the dark corner nearby.

"So what are we going to do now?"

"Rest up probably," said the ronin. "Then Dominic will doubtless have come up with some great plan that he'll drag you off on." Charlie glanced over at the ronin, whose dark eyes were locked on Dominic's back.

"What is it about him that angers you so," he asked. The ronin glanced up sharply towards Charlie, as though shocked his thoughts had been so clear. But then his head shook and drooped down again.

"He strives too hard to be a hero he cannot be."

"What are you talking about," said Charlie in annoyance. "Dominic is a great man. Do you not know of his descent into the heart of the Wyrm with the other seven great heroes? There is an epic poem about their battles. It is a celebrated victory."

"A victory?" The ronin's jaw jerked upward as he reached up and brushed his hand across a pair of scars that ran across his throat. Charlie scowled, he couldn't understand how this tribeless buffoon couldn't honor the memory of that great battle. He quickly did his best to remember the whole of the poem. He began to recite what he could. 

"The pits breathed forth a dark force, to crush all the light,  
But they fought on, for Gaia, and feared not their plight.  
The green mad fires.  
Seemed funeral pyres.  
A promise that death would come tonight.   
They traveled deep under the black earth,  
To a temple where evil itself was birthed. 

From the darkness around them came chattering cries,  
A madness filled them, that pulled at their loyal ties.  
Eyes in the dark.  
With fear did mark.  
Whispers that their souls and friends would die.  
But terror made them not turn away,  
They fought corruption, and held the eyes at bay 

Of the seven great heroes, know well their names.  
Marn of one eye lead them to the spot, his great strength protected their quest.  
Quentin of the shattered tower, his magic saved them in that dread nest.  
Dominic, he who rends the darkness, his blade shone like the moonlight.  
Snowflake, as unique as her name, beautiful at peace or at fight.  
First-to-Find, his quiet wisdom and bravery guided them on... 

Charlie suddenly paused in his recital. He looked at the ronin who had slumped back against the wall, his body going rigid. His left hand spasmodically clenched open and closed. The ronin's right hand had clamped around his own throat, and was squeezing it tightly. The fingers of his hand digging in along the old lines of the scar. Charlie frowned in concern as he watched the tense strain on the ronin's face. He reached out and clasped the ronin's shoulder.

"What's wr-" he suddenly jerked back in surprise as the ronin's eyes snapped open, burning with anger. His hand hissed off his throat to grab Charlie's wrist and bend it sharply backward. Charlie gasped in pain as he was pulled out of his sitting posture and pressed to the floor by the seemingly simple move. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. Charlie looked up in surprise as the ronin released him and slumped back against the wall weakly.

"I am sorry," sighed the ronin as he closed his eyes as though very tired. He slowly clenched his hand closed and seemed to force it down to his lap. "Just...just never speak that poem around me again." Charlie nodded fearfully as he scrambled to his feet and retreated out of the corner. He spotted Jo hanging out with Syntax and curiously wandered over to hear what they were discussing.

"Well?" Syntax glanced up slightly to look at the Corax as she rocked back and forth on her heels and watched the Glass Walker type at her keyboards.

"The spirits are out, I shall tell you what they learn when they get back." Syntax returned to her typing, her eyes dancing over the screens in front of her.

"Well?" Syntax didn't bother to look up this time.

"I have no answer other then the one I have given you the last six times you questioned me." Charlie grinned slightly as he walked over and tapped Jo's shoulder.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, well Syntax here is a Theurge, and supposedly," Jo twisted to smirk at Syntax, "a good one. She's checking out where the Spirals and other people hunting us are. Then she'll be able to figure out the best way for you and Dominic to get out of the city."

"Ah," Charlie turned and nodded with a smile at Syntax, "thank you very much."

"It is irrelevant to thank me before I have successfully accomplished the services for which you seek to give me those accolades." Syntax picked up the pen and swished it over the plain white board in front of her. Charlie glanced up at the multiple screens overhead and the blurred image of the cursor as it zipped about and began clicking various points upon a digital map of the city. Other windows popped open on the monitors as Syntax hooked into various surveillance cameras and other monitoring devices. His jaw dropped slightly as he watched her zoom in on various groups of suspicious looking people lurking about the area.

"Bingo," cheered Jo cheerfully as she clapped her hands. "But...ah, those guys don't look like Dancers, how come?"

"More then likely it is because they are not Dancers," said Syntax sharply. She clicked on her keyboard and caused one of the screens to appear on a larger monitor in front of her. She tapped the pad with her pen and the image shifted and magnified on the licensee plate of the car two men were standing by. She turned to the keyboard and typed in a quick series of requests. Another screen flashed as it scrolled down a list of vehicle registries. "The car is listed as a company conveyance of Allied Chemical and Plastics Corporation."

"Allied Chemical," snarled Dominic as he strode over to stand next to Charlie. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Surprised at what," asked Charlie as he glanced questioningly at Dominic.

"The truck," said Dominic quickly. Charlie shook his head slightly, still confused. Dominic sighed. "When I asked the dumpers at the lake who they worked for. They said Allied." Dominic growled slightly as he considered the events. "The people in charge of Allied have to have been corrupted into service of the Wyrm. They were in on the ambush and now they're helping to hunt us."

"And are involved in the dumping scheme," chimed in Jo helpfully. "That is what you were originally out there trying to do something about after all."

"What do you know about them," Dominic asked Syntax. She quickly began typing again.

"I know little, they have kept their records well protected and hidden from easy public access. However by checking on their copyright and patent information I can access some board members. From there I can undoubtedly track some financial and tax records. That should give me a hint on building permits and deeds that I can use to help track their employee numbers..." Screens flickered and flashed, a printer began humming in the background. Charlie glanced around in awe as the entire room seemed to explode into a wild intensity of life. Dominic smiled slightly as he looked around at it all.

"I see you finally got your 'jungle' working," he said with a half chuckle. "Perhaps we did judge too quickly its lack of merit." Syntax glanced over at him slowly, her gray eyes holding little humor. Jo cleared her throat nervously.

"So...about Allied?" Syntax turned away from Dominic and tapped another button. A nearby printer hummed as a series of papers were printed out. Jo walked over and grabbed them. "Wow, offices, factories, private estates. These guys have a big load of money on their hands. Hey...nice beach-front stuff. Why can't I get that sort of place?"

"What about that dumping," asked Dominic as he walked over to stand by Jo. "Is there anything that might explain what they were up to?"

"Doesn't look like it," muttered Jo as she flipped through the papers. Naw, nothing here about that, literally nothing. Oh well, a mystery for another time."

"Is it?" Dominic turned back to Syntax. "Exactly how many of their special agents do they have out hunting for us?"

"Many."

"And how many does that leave them to guard their offices?" Dominic grinned coldly at the words. Charlie looked up at him in surprise. Jo's jaw dropped slightly as she issued a gurgled cry of annoyance.

"One third their regular compliment by my calculations," said Syntax sharply. "More then likely their least efficient agents. It does appear an optimal time to strike."

"Do you have a map? Where are the offices? Best ways in and out?"

"Whoah! Hold on here just one second!" Jo quickly planted herself between Dominic and Syntax. "It's not the optimal time, or the best time, or prime time! There are plenty of reasons it's not, literally. Okay, three reasons. One, you are weak, tired, and worn out. Two, we have practically every damn Spiral in the state out on the streets hunting for your sorry backside. Three,...okay, I don't have a three, but one and two should be enough!" Dominic looked down at her, his mouth lifting in a crooked grin.

"I would have expected more out of a Corax. Aren't you supposed to dig up secrets?"

"Well sure, but I like to stick to the secrets I'll be around to tell later on!" Dominic reached out and shoved her aside.

"I don't plan to allow the Dancers to try and kill me and a pack easily. This will teach them their mistake, we strike when they least expect it. It's an old and wise lesson of when to attack. Known and practiced since Sun Tzu wrote it in The Art of War."

"Well when Zu and the other sons get here to help you we can discuss it. But how the hell are you and Charlie going to do this alone?" Dominic glared down at her. He then slowly turned his head to glance at Syntax. She met his gaze evenly and nodded.

"I shall help." Dominic smiled thinly and glance at Charlie. Charlie nodded quickly. Dominic turned back to look at Jo. She crossed her arms and muttered slightly under her breath.

"It's a bad idea. It's a reckless idea. Literally...I think it's literally reckless." Jo shook her head and glanced up at Dominic. "Still...it might be nice to run with some of the old group again." She suddenly smirked at Dominic, an odd gleam entering her eyes. He frowned even as she started to grin wider. "I go if he goes." She nodded her head to the quiet figure of the ronin. Dominic scowled as he turned to look over at the dark corner. Charlie watched the hunched figure expectantly. The ronin looked up slowly from where he sat. His dark eyes flicked across each of their faces.

"It is pointless and absurd to risk your lives so." The ronin stood up slowly and turned towards the stairs. "I did not wish to become part of this madness again."

"Don't be like that man," whined Jo as she skipped across the room to catch his arm. "We could really use you on this one."

"Let him go," snarled Dominic, "if the urrah wishes to crawl back under his rock that is his business. Let him continue to drown himself in booze and self pity."

"Don't listen to him man," urged Jo as she tugged on the ronin's arm. "Stay and help, it'll be like old times." He glanced down at her, his face a grim mask of pain. Jo grimaced and shrugged. "Okay, maybe not just like old times, but..."

"Yes, old times." Dominic slowly walked forward, his eyes locked with the ronin's. Charlie swallowed nervously as he saw the ronin go tense, his eyes staring back at Dominic's unblinkingly. "I know how much I'd like to go on a mission with him acting just like old times." The ronin pushed Jo away from him as he stepped forward to stand directly in front of Dominic. "So urrah, do you feel that old fire. Perhaps you'd like to silence me? Why not use your claws? Cut me deeply. Put me down." The ronin's lips curled back, his hands flexed open. Jo suddenly shoved herself between them.

"Stop it, both of you! Dominic, just shut up! Literally shut up!" Charlie blinked in surprise as Jo whirled her head around to glare at both of them. Her eyes sparkling angrily, her fists clenched. "What's happened to you two? Why can't you just get over it?" Dominic snarled as he glared down at her.

"I told you I didn't expect you to understand Josephine, but I'd at least expect you to respect my reasons! Why don't you go meddle in someone else's life and stay out of mine."

"Yes," agreed the ronin as he twisted his arm and pushed Jo back from him, she staggered away. "Why don't you just stay out of all of our lives?" He turned and walked out of the door and down the stairs. The doors slamming behind him. Jo lowered her head and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. She turned away, her shoulders shaking slightly. Charlie lowered his own head, confused and hurt by the anger of the others. Dominic slowly turned back around to look at Syntax.

"So," Dominic grinned slightly, "what information can you give us about their office?" 

* * *

"This is foolishness," muttered Snapback as he stood next to the pickup truck Argent had obtained for their use. "We are to follow that doddering old fool back into the trap the others died to save us from? It makes no sense." Leona said nothing as she stood leaning against the side of the truck. Snapback had been acting rather strangely about the whole prospect of the mission. Usually he was the one eager to rush off and engage the enemy in face-to-face combat. Now he had been angrily arguing with her about the entire idea ever since she had offered to go. Leona turned away from him to look up at the moon. The slim silver crescent looked almost like a smiling mouth in the sky above. She hoped it smiled with pride at them, rather then laughed at their actions.

"Is all prepared?" Argent came slowly walking out of the dark woods. He was dressed in simple gray slacks and a white collared shirt. He leaned on his walking cane with his left hand, with his right he held up a small bundle to Leona. "I suspected you would need a bit of help replacing your clothes in a hurry. I trust they will fit." She shrugged and pulled on the jeans and T-shirt. They were too big, but fashion had never made much sense to her anyway.

Snapback climbed into the driver's seat as Leona hopped into the back passenger space. Argent gingerly pulled himself up into the passenger seat as Snapback started the engine. They rode quietly down the winding back trails that led from the few houses up in the hills and down towards Detroit. Leona spared one last longing glance back towards the peaceful mountains and valleys of the bawn, before turning to look at the brightly glowing garish lights of the city spread out below them..

"This plan makes little sense. What shall we accomplish, what can you learn?" Snapback muttered his doubts with a scowl as he pulled off the dirt road and onto a paved street. "How are we even going to find them within that accursed city?"

"Poor lad, isn't it obvious?" Argent rested comfortably in his seat, his wrinkled face splitting into a warm grin. "Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm helpless. I may not be able to rip apart a Dancer as I once could, but I can still talk to the spirits."

"Phaugh, the spirits of the city are sick things."

"Perhaps, but they are just as effective if you know how to talk to them." Argent reached out and patted Snapbacks hunched shoulder affectionately. "Relax young one, this may not be as difficult as you fear. We shall find them and help them escape the Dancers' tracking." 

Leona watched as Argent turned back to watch the approaching lights of the city. She watched the orangish glow of street lamps wash over his face slowly. She saw the slight glint within his pale eyes. She could imagine him having that same look many years ago, when he had gone forth to face the evils of the Wyrm with other great heroes. She found herself actually relaxing somewhat. Finding a reassured strength in Argent's calm demeanor.

They arrived in the city without incident. They drove to the park where the ambush had taken place. Leona looked quietly at the shattered chunks of ice floating in the lake. She wondered again if she had been right in allowing Snapback to convince her to run. Would not Argent have gone back for his friends? To be a hero one had to act like a hero, especially when one was most scared. Leona thought again of the relic filled lodge of the elders back at the caern. She wondered if, when she finally fell, she would deserve to be remembered on those walls. Would she be given a spot so that her memory would live on. For that was what all heroes needed, to be remembered for their deeds.

"Stop here, this will do." Snapback stopped the car and peered over questioningly at Argent. The Silver Fang simply grinned slightly as he climbed out of the car. "Come Leona, walk with me." She quickly hopped out after him. He walked slowly, yet with great dignity, down the sidewalk. Leona paced along next to him, her eyes nervously scanning the dark corners and shadows of the area. Finally Argent stopped by the same bit of wall that Dominic had waited for the truck at. He leaned forward and slowly whispered to it.

"What are you doing?"

"Talking to the bricks. Simply because they have been shaped makes them no less the rocks they were before. And the spirits of the rocks are excellent sources of information. They have so little else to do, but sit and watch." Argent suddenly frowned as he turned back to the wall. "No, when I said a little while ago I meant hours, not years! A man who fought here tonight." He glanced back up apologetically and shrugged. "Well...there are a few drawbacks..." 

* * *

Endelon sat patiently on the rooftop and watched the pair stand by the wall. Yes, he had been wise to return to the beginning of the hunt. He had simply thought to recapture the fresh scent, instead he had found new prey. He recognized the female and the young man as part of the group who had escaped the earlier attack. But the old man. Ah, the old man was Lord Moros Argent himself. The aged Silver Fang had finally once more dragged himself away from his precious home by the caern. Dragged himself into danger.

Endelon's lips curved upwards into a satisfied grin. From under the dark hood of his coat his dark blue eyes carefully watched all of their movements. He knew they were here for their friends. They would be going to them soon. He grinned as he felt the cold hiss of pain from his klaives as they burned against his chest. Yes, they too sensed the hunt that was to come. Let Kendar sit and obey Fer-guath's orders. Let the tribe wait and do nothing. He would be gaining glory in battle.

Few were the things that could arouse any trace of true emotion within Endelon. In truth he hardly cared about them. Brief moments of camaraderie with Kendar notwithstanding, he didn't care much for his tribe. Their pointless strutting and rutting filled him with boredom. He remembered the first time one of his packmates had tried to mate with him. It had been Endelon's first true kill. But now he felt one of the few emotions he did experience. Eagerness. He waited and watched as they climbed back into their truck and drove off. Little did they realize they now had a shadow following them. A shadow with cold dead eyes. 

* * *

The unending pain and madness were gone. The brain had cleared of the confusion and agony. Never had thoughts seemed so simple. Never had everything felt so clear. The pale green glow filled the room, a comforting reminder of the past. Two figures stood nearby. One was a thin man with scraggly hair dressed in a ragged black robe. His wide eyes nervously twitched about, his hands rubbing along a old scar on his belly. Fear was evident in his smell and stance. That thought brought pleasure, it was good he should fear. They should all fear, all fear what they had released.

The second figure did not fear. He was an inky blot of darkness, hard to make out. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest. His shadowed face was split with a small grin. His eyes watched eagerly. He was the power here. A power all did fear. His manner was that of a creature that did not have concern of predators. His eyes stared ahead, straight and unyielding. None could match that gaze.

"I trust you have enjoyed your time within the Pit." Muscles tensed, the Pit...that had been the pain, the madness. The whispered words and invasive touches. There had been a time before the Pit. Life had been different then. As it was different now. Out of the Pit, this was better then in the Pit. "Do you know why I had you freed?" Free...free of the Pit. He had done it. Pleasure, there was pleasure at the thought of being gone from the Pit.

"This is not wise," muttered the scrawny figure in the robes. "Look, no change has come to the body. How can you be sure that the process worked?" The voice of the man was warbled and annoying. Anger, hatred. The man was not to be trusted. He had been responsible for much of the pain, for that he would pay.

"Calm thyself," said the shadow as he stepped between them. "You should remember how far along we were before we even tried the Pit. It is not a concern if the body remains unchanged. Tell me, would you like revenge for the time you spent in the Pit?" Revenge for the Pit? Did he need to ask? He spoke of those that had caused it to happen, described them. They seemed familiar. He spoke of the hunt, and what was needed. The mind grew sharp and cold. It seemed to easily form thoughts and plans for dealing with them. For dealing revenge. 

* * *

The ronin walked down the dark streets alone. Around him the humans wandered about on their nightly chores. Cars drove past, their lights and engines creating a cavalcade of noise and activity. But he was alone, alone and with himself. Urrah, that was what Dominic thought of him. He believed him responsible for what had happened. The ronin couldn't argue, he felt responsible. Jo had looked sad when he had left, her eyes filled with worry for him. Charlie too, the young pup looking like some dream of his had been shattered. Shattered like glass on cement. Shattered like his life. Better to have the dreams shattered now, early, to save him pain later on.

A wind rustled through the city, gently tossing his long red hair. The ronin shifted slightly, his arm wrapped about his box. His box that she had gone through. That woman. That Glass Walker. A box he hadn't bothered to open since that day. She had had no right to go through it thus. He had seen the look in her eyes, she had known what the items meant to him. He shifted his grip as he crossed the street. It was better this way, he thought. Better that he hadn't gotten involved. Better for him, and better for them. The violence was not the way. Battle was not the way. Death was not the way. Not the way of Gaia. Yes, he nodded to himself. Better this way then to go. Let them if they wanted to, it wouldn't matter. 

A sudden muffled scream startled him from his quiet musings. He turned and peered into a nearby alley. Amidst the steam billowing forth from a vent he could see three struggling figures. Two men. One woman. She was being forced down to the ground by one. The other chortled with laughter as he began to unhook his belt. The ronin's eyes narrowed slightly. He felt a sudden flash of anger course through him. He turned and walked into the alley, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Hold her Jacko, hold her good. I'm gonna ram this bitch into next week." The man pulled his pants open and dropped down next to the struggling woman. He grabbed her kicking legs and started to peel them open. Jacko grinned as he lay on his back and hugged her tightly to him. His hand clamped over her mouth and his arm wrapped tightly around her chest. The young woman continued to madly struggle, her eyes wide in fear. "Okay bitch, you ready? You ready for the hammer?"

"Hey." The word was spoken softly, but it still seemed to shock the two as they looked up in surprise. The ronin stood quietly next to the steam vent. The rising white mist brushed about him, hiding him partly from view. However his eyes could be clearly seen, practically glowing in the dim light. "Leave her alone."

"Or what man? You wanna play fucking hero?" The rapist stood up and pulled his pants back up around his waist. As he did he pulled a large knife from a sheath on his back. "Why don't you just fuck off?" He waved the knife menacingly. The ronin slowly started to walk forward, his case still held casually under one arm. He growled slightly, his eyes locked on the man. The rapist took a half step back. His friend looked up at him nervously.

"Go on man, cut the fucker!" 

The other man nodded slightly and quickly lunged forward. The ronin's hand snapped out as he twisted himself slightly to the side. He grabbed the man's wrist and gave a sharp turn. The man howled in pain as his arm went numb and the knife flew from his grasp. The ronin completed the maneuver by stepping in slightly and pushing down. The man whimpered in pain as he was forced to his knees. Jacko quickly released the woman and hopped to his own feet. He rushed forward, his fist sailing through the air for the ronin's face. The ronin's foot lashed up, kicking the Jacko's hand out wide. The ronin sharply bent his leg back at the knee, sending his heel cracking hard into Jacko's face. The large man crumpled to the ground unconscious.

"Take your friend, get out of my sight." The ronin released the first man. He quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed Jacko. As he dragged him away the ronin walked up to the still shivering woman. "Are you injured?"

"No...no, I'm fine." She looked around in shock and then up at him. She started to pull herself up, he quickly lowered his hand and helped her rise. "Thanks, thanks a lot. You have no idea."

"It was nothing." He turned and started walking away. She quickly jogged after him.

"Wait a minute. Can't you let me thank you for properly? You really saved me back there!"

"It was nothing," he shrugged as he kept walking. "It means nothing in the great scope."

"Say what?" She hurried along to keep pace with him. He didn't glance over at her. "I don't know what you're thinking but what you did made a huge difference. Especially to me."

"Perhaps it did." He paused and looked over at her. She was young, her long brown hair mussed around her face. She was rather plain looking, just another faceless member of the human mobs. He shook his head. "You are young, you have yet to learn. There is a darkness in this world, it eats away at us all. Some try to fight it, but violence begets violence. Maybe tomorrow those two will be back. Maybe they'll get a gun instead of a knife. Maybe they'll start killing to make themselves feel better. The only way to fight the evil is by personal introspection. By quiet changes. By careful actions."

"You think so?" Her light hazel eyes looked up at him curiously, her face having gone sad and worried. "Maybe. Or maybe those two will never do it again. In any case you helped me, and for that I just want to say thank you. You at least helped me against this darkness of yours." She smiled slightly at him, he nodded and turned away. As he walked down the street he heard her call after him. "And if you care so much about philosophy, here's one for you to think on; Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." 

* * *

Charlie squeezed between the gap in the rusty gate and into the large abandoned lot. He was now wearing a fresh set of jeans and a black T-shirt. Syntax had provided them, somehow they were a perfect fit. He walked through the tall weeds and random bits of litter as he followed the dark shape of Dominic. They had set out for the offices almost as soon as they had devised their plan. Syntax's route had thus far proved excellent. Charlie hadn't even seen a glimpse of any of the people hunting for them. He glanced over at Jo as she walked along glumly next to him. Her hands were crammed into her coat, and her eyes downcast.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jo didn't react. Charlie kept walking and watching her. "It might help if you talked about it...literally." Jo smiled slightly and glanced up at him.

"Cute kid. You're a real cute kid. But I don't think this is the time or place for me to exorcise my personal demons." She looked up as Dominic lightly scrambled over the fence on the far side of the lot. He landed softly on the sidewalk and glanced back impatiently at them. "Besides, I'd say we'll have demons enough to face soon." 

She nodded her head towards the distant twin black glass towers that loomed upon the Detroit skyline, framing between them the thin crescent moon. The Allied Towers. Each fifty stories tall, connected near the top by an enclosed walkway. Charlie eyed the towers warily. From back at Syntax's warehouse the towers had looked small and simple to deal with. Now as they came closer the black glass structures seemed to loom ever higher. They were not the tallest buildings in the city, but something about them made the hair on the back of Charlie's neck stand on end.

"That place is wrong, I can feel it." Jo smirked at his words and nodded. Charlie turned to her again and tried to grin confidently. "But I guess it's not so bad for you and Dominic."

"And why is that, kid? Are you suggesting Dominic's too egotistical to feel fear?" Jo suddenly chuckled at the comment. She glanced up to eye Dominic who stood impatiently far ahead. "Well...maybe so. But I still feel it."

"Why? Wasn't your time with the heroes in the Pit enough to harden your battle skills?" Charlie shook his head in puzzlement. "I was always told by the elders that battle experience bred confidence. That any Garou who went through that sort of experience would come out stronger. I know you're one of the werecrows and not particularly suited for combat. But, why shouldn't it be applicable to all the breeds?" He glanced at Jo for reassurance, but she wasn't there. He turned around in surprise to see her standing motionless a few feet back. "Jo?"

"What did you call me?" Her small eyes narrowed as they locked with Charlie's. He would have never suspected that Jo's rounded face could suddenly appear so menacing. Her lips curled downward into an angry snarl as she glared at him. Charlie quickly backed off a step.

"Sorry Jo, I didn't mean to suggest you were a coward."

"Why the hell would I care if a Garou thought I was a coward!"

"Isn't that..?"

"Werecrow? I might almost accept you being thickheaded enough not to know I'm a Corax, but a werecrow?" Jo stormed forward and poked Charlie repeatedly in the chest. "Do I look like some killer mime brought back from the dead to you?!" 

"No...I..."

Jeez, some damn Galliard you'll ever make. I'm a raven! A raven! Like Edgar Allen Poe. It was quoth the raven, not quoth the crow. At least last time I checked. Surely at least one of those big hero stories got it right, right? Learn the damn lessons and songs. There's a reason Gaia taught them to you! Or don't the Garou know that. Maybe you're just too busy worrying about other things!" She turned and stormed past him quickly. Charlie turned slowly to watch her as Jo turned to shout over her shoulder. "While you're at it you can try to learn about things before opening your big _weredog_ mouth!"

Charlie watched Jo walk away angrily. He cursed at his own stupidity as he hurried after her. He couldn't believe he'd set her off like that. This whole night had just seemed to be one long angry argument amongst his fellows. He'd never suspected that this was how heroes behaved. He'd expected calm understanding, supportive friendship. Instead they all seemed intent on angering each other. He reached the fence and ably clambered over it. As he did Jo hopped upward, her body seeming to shrink and lift higher. A black raven flapped its wings and glided easily over their heads. Dominic nodded up to it and motioned ahead. Jo cawed once before taking wing and sailing down the street ahead of them.

"Where's she off to?"

"We used Josephine a lot for reconnaissance in the old days," said Dominic with a small grin. "Amazing how even the most alert of guards would overlook the birds over their heads. Also it usually helps her to eye out the potential battle spot early. Otherwise she tends to be too nervy to be of much help when the trouble starts."

"Does she fight then," asked Charlie in surprise. Dominic glanced back at him and smirked.

"A Corax? Don't make me laugh. No, it's just that she spots the good hiding places. Gets her out from underfoot of the real fighters."

"Oh." They walked on in silence for a while. The streets were in that quiet lull time between night and dawn. Charlie realized he hadn't had any sleep since early last night. The funny thing was he didn't feel tired, he felt alive. Yes, being here with the heroes had given him energy. Despite any misgivings about their strange arguments and secrets. He glanced up at Dominic as they walked, he finally gathered the courage to ask a question that had been bothering him. Another one of those secrets. "Where did you know Syntax from?"

"Her?" Dominic's dark eyes flicked over to glance at Charlie. "I serve on the council you know. I have dealings with many of the Garou in the area."

"Yes, but...there seemed to be some tension. And you mentioned something about dismissing her ideas for that computer setup she has."

"Ah, the 'jungle' as she called it." Dominic shook his head, then frowned and glanced over at Charlie. "It was an old matter. She wanted to create a technological jungle. She claimed she could bring forth with computers what Gaia did with nature. The council didn't approve. They...we, called it an abomination. An insult to Gaia."

"But she did it anyway? Why didn't the council stop her if they so disapproved." Dominic stopped walking. Charlie paused curiously next to him. Dominic stepped into an alley, away from the eyes of the few motorists. Charlie stepped into the dark shadows after him. Dominic's face was hard to see in the darkness. The glittering points of light in his eyes the only clue as to where he was looking. His voice went quiet as he spoke.

"Listen to me carefully Charlie 'Black Muzzle'. Galliard of the Get of Fenris. Servant of Bull, protector of the Raging Falls and nephew of Marn the One Eyed. You must realize the nature of our kind." Dominic's hand suddenly flashed upwards, his klaive held in his grasp. The flashing silver runes gleaming in the darkness. The blade seeming to almost shed a light of its own. "This is my klaive. It is called Bonespur. It was created many years ago by a great Garou Philodox known as Mourns-Alone. He made it after he had been forced to kill off two of his packmates with his own claws. Close friends who had turned to the ways of the Wyrm. He removed the arm that he had used to slay them. From it he carved this weapon." Charlie stood silently, his wide eyes locked fearfully with the gleaming points of Dominic's dark gaze. "It is a weapon made by us, from us, to slay us."

"Look at the runes Charlie 'Black Muzzle'." Charlie tried to turn away, the silver glow of the knife burning at his eyes. Dominic's hand snapped out and grabbed his jaw. The Shadow Lord slowly twisted Charlie's face back. "Look at them, Galliard of the Get of Fenris!" He did. They sparkled menacingly in the dark. The gleaming mark on one side that stood for duty. The silver symbol on the other that stood for death. "This is our message and the lesson of Mourns-Alone. We have our duty to Gaia. It is to serve her will. Her will is that we fight and die in her cause. But sometimes it is our duty to do more then die, and that Charlie, servant of Bull, protector of the Raging Falls caern. That duty is the hardest, and most difficult of our tasks. You, Charlie 'Black Muzzle' Galliard of the Get of Fenris, must learn this duty if you ever truly wish to know what all your titles mean.

"And what is that duty," asked Charlie in a fearful whisper.

"That duty." Dominic leaned forward slowly. His worn visage emerging from the darkness. The silvered reflection of the rune of duty cast across his face. "That duty is that we do Gaia's will, and then live with the consequences."

The klaive flashed once more in the darkness before it disappeared again under Dominic's coat. The Shadow Lord brushed past Charlie and back onto the street. Charlie stood silently there for a few more minutes. Staring deep into the darkness...and seeking answers. 

* * *

He stared into the darkness and sought answers. None came. He shifted to look up at the refrigerator. It was empty. The police had cleaned it out when they had checked over the crime scene. His TV was gone too. Taken by the police as well, or perhaps just common thieves. His mattress had been torn apart in the fight, it was gone too. He sat cross legged on the floor. A drop of water fell onto his face and slowly dribbled down his chin. He tilted his head up to look at the ceiling. He watched the water droplet form on the AC vent. He watched it bulge and shift. Then it fell, hurtling down to him. Except for that last bit, the bit that never went with the rest. The bit that would not take the final plunge, not fall into the darkness.

Evil triumphs when good men do nothing. A simple phrase by a long dead philosopher. Spoken simply by a young woman who had almost been raped. Who knew what the world would hold for her tomorrow? What did it hold for him? A water drop fell onto his upturned face. Violence was not the way. He was so sure of that. It hadn't worked. Evil triumphs when good men do nothing. But he was doing something. What? Trying to forget? Trying to forgive? Trying to die? He opened his eyes and looked at the water stains. They were full of wild images. Images of war and death. Images and shapes of that dark place. Of the fall...

...The green pits spawned the beasts as quickly as they cut them down. He looked up as he heard the spell reaching its final incantations. Soon. This would be over, soon. Suddenly blood sprayed across him. First-to-Find had been torn apart! He looked out upon the stone walkways and saw the mad priest Malise coming forward. His eyes crackling with insanity and power. His reality warping magical energies swirling about him. He glanced back at Marn and Dominic. The two stood side by side. Bodies piled up around them as they protected Quentin with their lives. He turned to Snowflake. Her beautiful white face was splattered red with blood. But her teeth shone white as she grinned at him. They rushed forward. Their movements were deadly perfection. As though they were flowing drops of water around each other. They had trained together for as long as they had been fighting. Each knew where to block as the other struck. Where to move as the other leaped. Where to advance as the other pulled back. 

The dark creatures of the pit fell away before them. His senses swam with the battle, his eyes locked on Malise. He leapt towards the sorcerer. His claws hummed through the air as he sailed in for the kill. Malise laughed, his magic energies swirling about him. Suddenly a blur leapt up in front of him, blocking his path. A jaw opened and clamped down on his throat. He reacted without thinking. Claws Flashed! A throat was torn! A hero fell. He reached out, his hand grasping only air as he stared down into fear filled eyes. But it was too late. Her small white body tumbled helplessly down through the air. Like a snowflake. He howled in sorrow at the loss. Darkness swarmed in. The end came...

...His eyes flared open as he leaped to his feet. He just as quickly dropped down again. It had been his fault, his crime, his sorrow. Evil triumphs when a good man does the wrong thing. He lowered his head, his long rust colored hair falling across his face. But what of the others. What if he could help now? What if by inaction he could commit as great a wrong as before? He reached up, his hand brushing along the pair of crescent shaped scars on his throat. He had committed the basest of crimes. He deserved the basest of deaths. But did that pup Charlie? Did Jo? Did even Dominic? He lifted his eyes to look at the ceiling.

No. They didn't, and they wouldn't. 

The water stains looked like wolves. 

The wolves of a pack. 

You had to be loyal to the pack. He reached out and grabbed his box. He lifted the top up to open it ever so slightly and reached inside. He pulled out a small length of white silk with a patch of white fur on it. He lifted the fur to his nose and inhaled slightly. Allowing himself one last brief moment before he would act. Then his eyes went cold and calm. He pulled back his hair away from his face and tied it tightly into a ponytail with the silk. He stood up and grabbed his box as he turned towards the door. Evil wouldn't triumph tonight due to his lack of action. 


	6. The Storm Strikes

Oh happy day, I'm finally back and posting. Yes it has been a while (blame my low quality computer and the complexities of life) but now I'm baaaack. (Thor waits expectantly as no one seems to care...) On another note I got around to reading "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Gilman. I found it rather enjoyable, and if you like Malkavians it is a piece worth reading. It's also nice and short, only twelve pages or so, thus making it a nice one sitting read. (Unfortunatly much of the rest of her work becomes extremely political and isn't as good, though not terrible.) As to this chapter...there's violence, more problems for our heroes, and Puck! So read on if you dare...

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit

Chapter 6: The Storm Strikes 

"C...R...U...S...S, that's how you spell Cruss! He looks just like a bus. But he isn't full of puss. At least not just because. He's Cruss, he's Cruss, the loyal sidhe noble wuss. He's Cruss, He's Cruss, and he often shouts at us!"

"Would you please be silent!"

"So what would you rather do to pass the time?" Puck stood on one leg, her other leg stuck out straight behind her. Her arms were out wide to her sides as she balanced, still frozen in the middle of her song and dance. Cruss glanced over his shoulder with a scowl at her, he then turned back to watching the silent sewer holes the Spirals had disappeared down.

"I'd rather you be silent."

"Okay," said Puck with a grin. Cruss sighed in relief and smiled slightly. "But I don't think I wanna be quiet." Cruss slowly lowered his head and muttered in frustration. "Besides, you should like talking. I always see you in the council talking away about this, or jabbering on about that. Plus you always seem to have an opinion. Whenever anyone brings up anything you seem to have an opinion about it. Do you have an opinion about this?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Puck stopped balancing and capered over to sit down next to Cruss. She smiled at him as he scowled back at her. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk, where's the harm in that? Why don't we talk about the nobles, you always seem to be talking a lot with the nobles."

"I don't particularly care about the nobles," muttered Cruss as he brushed some of his long hair back from his face. "They talk too much and accomplish too little. They act as though they owe humanity nothing. If even half of them could get up off their backsides and actually do half of what they say-"

"What's your first name?"

"What," Cruss looked up in irritation at her. Puck blinked at him as she continued to smile widely.

"Your name. We're partners now, I shouldn't have to keep calling you Lord Cruss."

"Ah, my name is Juvariel. Now, as I was saying about the nobles. Some are all right, but most are too restrictive in their views. I'll concede that I don't believe all of Ayloshia's talk about how worthwhile the commoners are. But some of the other nobles have ideas that should have gone out with the dinosaurs. Now Ayloshia does have a few sensible policies. But if she keeps pushing her commoner equality issue she'll find herself soon short of allies at court. Why just the other day Lord Gimble said-"

"Would you date a commoner?"

"I think...what?" Cruss turned again to look at her. Puck's multicolored eyes beamed back brightly at him as she intently waited. "Well, just because I'm not involved with any sidhe ladies-"

"Because you think they talk too much?"

"No, it has more to do with trust. Lofty goals of pure love aside, I suspect any sidhe noblewoman of being more interested in my vote on council then on my own merits."

"So what about a good romp with a satyr? They have great parties."

"Perhaps. But they are far too wild a crowd to be trusted. Look at how useless they prove themselves to be at any proper duty. Ayloshia would do well to apply some harsh discipline to the lot of the goat legged beasts."

"Well how about a troll then. Strong, trustworthy, beautiful in their own way."

"Yes, I suppose they are. But trolls are too unquestioningly loyal. You can't trust any that are sworn to anyone but yourself. Otherwise who is to say what they might do for their oathlord. No, trolls should be kept at a distance unless there is a battle that needs winning."

"What about the pooka? I know a couple cute cat pooka who-" Puck was suddenly cut off as Cruss spun on her and lifted a dagger to her throat. His silver eyes narrowed menacingly.

"When exactly did I start discussing my political views with you?"

"I thought we were discussing dating," said Puck innocently as she batted her eyes. "What's wrong with that?"

"That is not the point, nor is that all we were discussing," snarled Cruss in annoyance.

"That's what I was discussing. That that would give you pause about that for this in a tit for tat about that thing-a-la-ding in the rocking lil' swing." Puck trailed off into a little sing-song chant of nonsense words, apparently oblivious to the blade at her throat. Cruss spat in frustration as he hopped to his feet and walked away from her. Angered at himself for being so susceptible to her jibes. Puck suddenly stopped singing and looked at his retreating back. "By the way, I'm gonna call you J.C. from now on!"

"What? Why in the name of all the kings who have ever breathed would you call me that?"

"Weeeeell. Lord Cruss sounds far too formal. Juvariel is really nice, but it sounds too nice for you. You're cute, but you aren't that cute. And calling you Lord Juvariel Cruss just seems silly. So...J.C. is perfect!" Puck giggled and rocked back in forth in glee. Cruss slowly lifted his dagger and pointed it at her.

"You shall not call me J.C., you shall refer to me as either Lord Cruss, or Lord Juvariel. Understand this you commoner worm. I don't like you. I! Don't! Like! You! Do not think I am fooled by your feigned idiocy. You have political aspirations and ever seek to press your own agenda into Ayloshia's ear. When this god forsaken mission is done I'm going to make it my life's goal to see you banned from court and any other event I may happen to attend. If for nothing else to stop your constant meddling! I swear, by my father's honor and my mother's purity. If you so much as sing one more song, or pull out one more toy, or even breathe a word about tiddlywinks. Then I shall take great pleasure in slicing off your knees and leaving you here to wander about on the bloody stumps till some large rats can find you and slowly gnaw you to death! Do you understand me!?!

Puck quietly watched Cruss as he stood there red faced and fuming. Her face had grown grim during his tirade, her eyes sad. She slowly nodded her head at him, her eyes brimming with compassion and understanding.

"I'm sorry," she reached a hand into her pocket, "obviously somebody hasn't had enough chocolate today!"

"AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" 

* * *

Werecrow! Werecrow? For a stupid kid who claimed to have studied all sorts of songs and stories...werecrow!?! Jo shook her head as she sailed through the darkness. Of course she knew that had only been the excuse to yell at the poor kid. But she swore, if she had to listen to one more Garou say something like 'Well, a Corax may not understand, but the Garou...' She hissed and spat in frustration. Didn't they understand that it was that exact holier-then-thou attitude that had caused so many of the other Changing Breeds to despise the Garou. Jo wondered exactly how many noble species of were-creatures had been destroyed because they had been too proud to accept the Garou's claim of being the greatest of Gaia's children. Now, even after all the supposed grief the Garou had expressed for the destruction, or murder, of so many of the other breeds, she still could see that same gleam of superiority in their eyes.

Of course, that was a problem for another time. She had a far more important and immediate task to deal with. Looming above her were the towers. She curled one wing and went into a long lazy spiral around the buildings. She scowled as she eyed them over. Escape routes were not promising. If things went wrong the towers could quickly become a death trap. She flapped her wings and fought against the strong currents of wind flowing about the tall towers. She sailed higher, her eyes peering into the windows as she soared past.

There! She quickly banked around and flew past again. She peered critically at the room as she passed it slowly. She curved her wings and allowed the flow of wind to bring her forward momentum to a near standstill. Those rooms were the storage rooms for the computer mainframe. She watched the blinking lights on the large computer towers and grinned. She quickly tilted her wings again and went into a gentle nose-dive. She angled away from the buildings and dropped into a dark alley nearby. At the last moment she beat her wings quickly and shifted back to her human shape. Jo leaned up against a wall as she fished her hand into the pockets of her leather jacket. She pulled out the cell-phone that Syntax had given her and hit the dial button.

"Yes?"

"Syntax, this is Jo. I spotted the mainframe and am just waiting for the boys to show up."

"Good. Do you remember everything you need to do?"

"Why should I? I have this phone to call you on."

"Yes," Jo could plainly hear Syntax sigh in annoyance on the other end of the line. "But what if something happens to the phone and we lose contact? There is a twenty-five percent probability of the phone being damaged. There is a sixty-eight percent chance the room will be shielded. There is-"

"Okay, fine! Let's go over it again!"

"Good. First you must gain access to the mainframe room."

"Well, duh..."

"Second, you must locate the mainframe server. Probably a z800 model with-"

"I find the one with a phone line plugged into it."

"Yes. Third, you place the disk I gave you into the computer. Finally, you must make sure to force the computer to dial an outside connection. Any connection will do, but I need that opening to work with."

"Fine, I got it, no problem." Jo looked up as she saw Dominic and Charlie walking down the street. She grinned as she stepped out of the alley and waved to them. "Looks like the party is about to get started Syntax. I'll give you a ring when things get interesting." Jo dropped the phone back into her coat as she waited for the other two. "What took you guys so long? I've been sitting around and waiting here forever. Literally waiting, literally forever."

"Jo," said Charlie with a shake of his head, "do you really know what that word means? If you were literally waiting forever then-"

"This from the werecrow man? Don't start telling me what you literally believe literally or anything else to be...literally. Now c'mon, let's do this." Jo turned and started walking towards the buildings. Dominic lifted one eyebrow as he turned to glance at Charlie.

"Werecrow man?"

"Don't ask."

The two quickly took after Jo. She led them down the street that passed underneath the large crossway that connected the buildings. The two black glass towers rose high into the dark sky. Jo shivered slightly. Here, directly under them, even she couldn't deny the strange sense of dread they seemed to exude. She shook off the sensation as she pointed upwards at the northern tower. Dominic followed her pointing finger.

"That's the mainframe room," she gushed slightly. "I spotted it during my flyby. We just need to figure out how to get up there and everything else will be a snap." She snapped her fingers to prove her point. "Any ideas?" Dominic's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at the gleaming light cast from the main lobby of the building. He grinned slightly and looked back at her.

"The best way is usually the most direct." Jo swallowed nervously as he started walking. She rushed after him and grabbed at his arm.

"Wait! Shouldn't we try to play it a little quieter then that?"

"What's the matter. Don't trust me?"

"Are you asking me literally?"

"Don't worry Josephine. I'm not going to start a fight with only you and the pup as backup." Dominic grinned coldly as he started up the vast entrance steps to the building. Jo glanced back at Charlie who was hanging his head slightly at the pup remark. She sighed and turned to follow Dominic inside. One security guard waited at the large marble desk just within the doors. Dominic snarled at the young kid as he approached. "Hey, what's your name and number?"

"Willis, badge number 5542," stammered the surprised kid as he sat up straighter in his chair. Dominic stalked right up to the desk and leaned over it, his eyes narrowed as he locked stares with the surprised guard. The kid started sweating almost immediately, and shifted his gaze about nervously as Dominic continued to quietly stare. Finally the guard couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Uh, what is this all about?"

"I'm special investigator Wolf, and I'll ask the questions here." Dominic's hand was a near blur as he pulled out his wallet and flashed his badge to the shocked guard. "Who is your superior and why haven't you called him down here yet?" Jo smirked as the flustered guard proceeded to do just that. In moments an equally worried looking man came rushing out of the elevators. Jo could tell by the look of him that he was just some middle management nobody. His uniform's collar was stained with sweat and pulled too tight around his flabby neck.

"Hello, uh...Inspector Wolf. What is this all about?"

"My job is to make sure that when Allied makes something secure, it stays secure. Is everything secure?" Dominic shifted his stare from the desk guard to the new arrival. The young man breathed out a slight sigh of relief.

"Of course," stammered the chief guard quickly.

"Really? How many men are on duty here tonight?"

"Twelve, counting myself."

"And how many are usually on duty?"

"Uh..."

"Exactly." Dominic walked past the desk and grabbed the chief guard's tie. He kept walking, dragging the man in his wake like a fish on a line. "So what I want to know is where are the guards that should be protecting the company's interests?"

"I don't know. I was just told to come in tonight and run an extra shift. Most of the others are-"

"Did I ask to hear your excuses?" Dominic spun on the man, his eyes glaring angrily. The guard shook his head quickly, sweat beading his throat. "No, I didn't. I'm going to take my specialists and run a head to toe investigation of this whole mess. Do you have a problem with that?" The guard shook his head. "Give me your security badge, unless you have a problem with that." The guard shook his head again and quickly handed over the badge.

"If there's anything else you need don't hesi-"

"If I need anything," snarled Dominic as he jerked the man forward by his tie. "I shall demand it and you shall provide it. Is that understood?" The guard nodded again. "Good, we'll start at the top and work our way down. Alert your men and then just go about your business normally. Understood?" The guard nodded desperately. Dominic grinned coldly as he released the tie and turned to the elevators. "Come Charles, Josephine. We have much to do." Jo smirked at Charlie as they followed into the elevator. The doors hissed shut as Dominic pressed the button for the forty-eighth floor.

"How did you do that," asked Charlie in surprised awe. "I never would have imagined they would have fallen for that cover story!" Dominic smirked coldly. "Especially considering you were able to pass Jo off as an investigator. I don't think many wear oversized leather jackets to work."

"A useful trick known as Obedience. Good for getting the apes to do what you need."

"I'm just thankful you didn't kill them," muttered Jo.

"Why? I smelled them, they had no real taint of the Wyrm about them. Mere human lackeys. All the fomori are doubtless out scouring the city for us. Thus they left their lair guarded by mere children." Dominic grinned as he watched the blinking numbers of the floors slowly grow larger. "This whole operation may prove easier then I ever could have hoped." 

* * *

It sat at its desk and quietly watched the screens around it. Information scrolled by quickly on each monitor. But it had little trouble following the flow of data, it had been created for just this purpose. It gurgled slightly in surprise as a security badge was used to open up the mainframe room of the Allied Tower North. An idle thrust of its will sent an electrical impulse that caused the security cameras of that sector to be displayed. It narrowed its bulbous eyes as it watched the three enter the room. They didn't belong there. It willed the phone in the lobby to ring.

"This is Captain Sheats, how may I help you."

"This is Security Control. Why is your badge being used without your presence?" Its voice was harsh and mechanical. It rarely had to use it and was always amused by the strange sounds, even more so when humans found them so discomforting. Captain Sheats nervously coughed.

"Ah, that would be Inspector Wolf. He requested my card before going off on his investigation." It snorted in annoyance and shut off the connection. Inspector Wolf? It sneered at the flimsy lie. Security had been compromised. It snarled in anger, it hated that its security had been threatened. It began dialing phones of all the guard patrols that were active. This breach would not be allowed to survive. 

* * *

Syntax sat in the center of the jungle. Around her the humming of the computers was the rustle of leaves. The sharp hiss of a spinning drive was the gurgle of a brook. Beeping and buzzing lights were the birds singing their songs. She allowed the sensation to wash over her as she became one with her jungle. A sudden buzz that was out of place alerted her. Her gray eyes slit open as she looked at a suddenly flashing screen. Bits shifted and changed color, painting a picture as intricate and beautiful as any sunset. She quickly waved her hand over the monitor. A swirling shape seemed to almost take form as the spirit of the electricity let itself be known.

"Someone approaches. They have been questioning the local spirits. Some were scared. Told them about you. They come." Sparks flitted from the agitated spirit's form. Of course electrical spirits were always agitated, this one was just more so then usual. Syntax glanced at the image of the approaching pickup truck. The timing was bad, she would be needed to help Jo and her friends soon. She couldn't afford distractions. She turned back to the spirit.

"You can enter the truck. Find the engine spirit and tell him I command his motions to stop." She waved her hand and the spirit was gone. Almost immediately did the truck sputter and slow. The electrical spirit having traveled at the speed of energy and light itself. Syntax reached out and plucked her fingers against a nearby fragment of the pattern web. Spider 271 quickly appeared and nodded respectfully to her. "Gather your brethren and reinforce the entryways. I wish them as solid as stone." Spider 271 nodded again and quickly sped off to accomplish its task.

Syntax waved her arm around another monitor. At her light caress the electrical spirits sprang to life and began painting more glorious pictures. They copied the pictures shown to them by their fellows at the other end of their connection. The electrical spirits were happy, they loved being allowed to move fast and paint their pictures. Syntax eyed the images carefully. The Allied Towers appeared quiet still. The guards had apparently not been alerted. Suddenly she sensed the electrical spirits in the phone lines acting up. She frowned as they activated transmitters that beamed their message across the city. Cell phones were being contacted. The hive was recalling its drones to itself for protection. Jo and her friends had been discovered.

She quickly summoned another electrical spirit. But not one of the gentle painters. She summoned a Surge. The angry spirit hissed in rage at her as she forced him to listen. She channeled him down into the system and allowed him into their phone systems. He entered the active phone line and burnt and tore at it. Syntax allowed herself a small smile as the warning was cut off. She had bought Jo and her friends a little bit of time...but not much. She quickly reached out and dialed Jo's number. But the radio spirits were unable to pierce the protective shielding of the building. They would be on their own, unaware of the danger. Syntax frowned and tapped another key. Her screen flashed as a tiny glowing spider appeared on it. It glowed silvery blue and rested atop a strange fractal design. It's tinny voice buzzed through the speakers.

"Statement: Net-Spider designation 'Blue Storm' reports as requested. Query: What is the reason for said request?"

"We have a problem. Some of our allies have been cut off from communication with me. I need to reach them and warn them that they have been discovered and need to hurry."

"Statement: Allies current location within Allied Towers blocks them from all conventional communication. Query: How can I help you reach them?" Syntax turned to another computer and began typing. Files flashed upon the screen as she plunged deep into the network.

"I was hoping Jo would arrange for an easy opening. Now it appears we shall have to pierce their security webs directly.

"Expression of concern: Such an action could very well destroy me and place at risk your own systems. Query: Do you truly wish to proceed upon said previously stated course of action?" Syntax glanced back at Blue Storm. The Net-Spider had grown a few shades lighter in worry over the possible assault. She tried to sound reassuring as she started to open up the pathway into Allied's computers.

"You have been designed by me for just such work. I have improved your capabilities so that you stand a far better chance of survival and success then any other option I possess."

"Statement: I shall undertake this task if you so desire it. Though I do not wish to go." Syntax nodded as she opened the gateway and allowed Blue Storm to pass through. 

* * *

"I don't get it," muttered Snapback in frustration as he slammed the hood shut. "The damn engine looks fine. Nothing is wrong with it, it just stopped!"

"Worry not about it," said Argent with a shrug as he motioned down the street. "We were close. From here on in we shall let our feet carry us." Snapback muttered but turned to follow. Leona had been sitting on the curb nearby, but quickly sprang to her feet when she saw they were moving again. Personally she was just as happy continuing on foot. Traveling within the rolling pieces of metal had never made her particularly comfortable. She jogged after Argent and Snapback, happy to feel the wind in her hair.

"So where exactly was it that the broken window said we were going," muttered Snapback doubtfully. Leona smirked. She too had been leery at first of Argent's apparent ability to speak with almost anything he came across. But she had faith in him as one of the great heroes. He would lead them to her pack. He would solve this strangeness that had come over the tribes. She smiled as she watched Argent walk. He was slow, and leaned upon his cane, but there was a pride in how he carried himself. His eyes were held up, his back straight. Next to him Snapback's bulky and hunched form seemed a dark and pathetic thing indeed.

They passed through a few dark alleys. Leona's nose crinkling at the putrid stench of the city. She hated the way the same dirty smell was on everything. It was as though the filth attempted to mask the true nature of the various parts of the city. She chose to ignore this, and instead thought of where they were going. Argent had spoken as though he knew this Glass Walker. Leona had thought the tribe had long ago disappeared from the area. But apparently this one eccentric and powerful one had chosen to stay. Leona shivered slightly as a chill wind suddenly blew down upon her. Suddenly her senses were on full alert as she spun around.

"Danger!" Leona dropped into a crouch as she scanned the alley behind her. She growled as she saw nothing but dark emptiness. She had smelled another wolf. An enemy wolf. A Black Spiral Dancer.

"What is it child?" Argent and Snapback stood at the far end of the alley. Snapback looked at her with a dour frown. Argent's eyes were wide and curious.

"We are being stalked," she growled as she started to back towards them. "I smelled him. He is here."

"Yes. I am." Sudden laughter echoed through the darkness. Leona felt the hairs on the back of her head stand on end as the mocking chuckles danced about her. "But very soon, you won't be." A figure slowly stood up on top of the roof of the building to Leona's right. He was in his crinos form, his tall lanky body wrapped in black bandages. A black robe hung flaccidly around him. His face was hidden in the shadows. All that was visible was his coldly smiling mouth. He sprang forward, his robes billowing about him as he dropped lightly into the alley. Leona snarled loudly at him, her teeth bared.

"Stay back creature," called Argent as he glared at the shadowy figure. "Know you not who you face? I am Lord Moros Argent of the Silver Fangs. I have seen your dark pits and slain your warriors. Stand back, lest you die!" The Dancer simply chuckled, his mouth opening to reveal rows of gleaming teeth.

"We all die Silver Fang. It is only a question of when." His robes suddenly snapped open as he drew forth his twin klaives. The two gleaming blades of silver suddenly burst into a crackling green flame. The strange glow illuminated his narrow smiling face and his dark blue eyes. "I think you shall die before me though...it is your time." Leona then heard Argent whimper slightly in fear. She turned in surprise to see him take a shaky step back. Her mind swam with wonder at the sight of such cowardice. With a snarl she turned back to face the Dancer. Her body shifted and grew, her blonde hair spreading over her whole body. The strange human clothes ripping away as her body expanded and grew larger.

"Come then Wyrmspawn," she snarled around her gleaming fangs, "let us see whose time to die it really is." She heard a snarl as Snapback shifted and stormed forward to stand at her side. The Dancer's knives crackled and sparked in the darkness as he twirled them around his fingers. He smiled at them as he slowly crouched. Leona growled loudly in the back of her throat. She raised her arms and flexed her claws. Snapback snarled softly as he glared at the Dancer. He clenched his hands open and shut, his powerful muscles shifting under his fur.

The Dancer's leap was shockingly fast and sudden. His robes swirled around him as he sprang forward. Leona twisted and lunged for his throat, her fanged mouth open and ready. But the Dancer seemed to twist contemptuously away from her lunge. His blade hissed through the air and slammed into her side. As he continued to spin away he dragged it across her belly, brutally gutting her. Snapback's arm hurriedly lashed out for the Dancer's head. But the slim figure quickly dropped to one knee, allowing the blow to pass harmlessly over his head to smash into Leona. As she was tossed back the Dancer quickly stabbed up and across with his blades. Snapback bellowed in pain as his bicep and underarm were suddenly pierced by the flaming klaives. He fell back and collapsed to the ground holding his now limp arm as the Dancer smoothly stood back up.

"Tonight was obviously not my time," said the Dancer quietly with a chuckle. "Thus it must be yours." Leona hissed in pain as she clutched at her abdomen and tried to hold her guts in. The sharp tang of her own blood filling her nostrils. The Dancer glanced up with a sneer at Argent who stood transfixed with fear, unmoving. The Dancer snorted in amusement as he looked down at Snapback and raised his weapons. Even as he did the metis quickly shook his head and raised his one still good arm in warding.

"Wait, you cannot. Let me explain!" The Dancer paused in surprise. He blinked slightly and nodded for Snapback to continue. Snapback sighed and glanced about nervously. He licked his lips as he glanced back to the Dancer. "It will all make sense when you see this." He reached into his pouch and rummaged around slightly. The Dancer watched him carefully, his dark blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Hold." The whispered word seemed to cut through the alley like a knife. Leona looked up in surprise as a new figure entered the fray. The man was powerfully built, his trench coat open enough to reveal his chiseled physique. His long rust colored hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. One of his arms held a small wooden box, the other was tucked into his coat pocket. The Dancer turned to eye the new arrival with a curious grin.

"Well, well, well. What have we here, some sort of hero?"

"Maybe," said the man softly as he started walking forward, "at least for tonight." He slowly leaned down and placed his box on the ground. Leona watched him curiously as he walked forward, his dark gaze locked on the Dancer. "Leave now. Or die."

"We all die," hissed the Dancer as he started to walk towards the stranger. His knives hissed and popped in the sudden quiet as they approached each other. The stranger paused a few dozen paces away. His face was calm, and if anything simply looked sad. His arms hung easily at his sides, his hands open and relaxed. The Dancer crouched slightly, his knives sparking in his grasp. His pale gray lips curled back to reveal yellowed fangs as he smiled. His cold blue eyes remained calm and unreadable. 

* * *

The room was filled with a hum from the many large computers that lined the walls. Dozens of flashing red lights blinked and flickered in the darkness. Filling his imagination with images of peering rats and other dark creatures. Charlie stood nervously by the door and peered out into the dark and empty hallway outside. Dominic stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed and a dark scowl on his face. He was glaring at Jo as she paced back and forth, her cell-phone pressed to her ear.

"C'mon Syntax. Pick up the phone, literally pick it up and put it to your ear. Why aren't you picking up?"

"Josephine," muttered Dominic in annoyance. "You said you knew what you had to do. You said it wouldn't be a problem."

"How the hell was I supposed to know they'd all have phone lines in them? It was supposed to have been easy to find the damn mainframe!" Jo hung up the phone again and spun to glare at Dominic. "It's not like I know all about these ruddy computers okay? Maybe if you'd listened to Syntax's little speech too you-"

"I was busy planning out how to get us in and out," snarled Dominic as he took a angry step towards her. "Maybe if you could just be counted on to remember things once in a while!"

"Oh, that's great. Just turn it all on me." Jo shoved the phone in towards his face. "Maybe you'd like to dial? Maybe mystical Dominic the mighty can dial better then me too!"

"You want me to dial?" Dominic's voice went strangely quiet. He smiled coldly at her as he leaned in, their faces only inches apart. Jo's determined glare slipping somewhat under Dominic's strange grin. "Would you like me to dial the phone?" He snatched it from her grasp and turned away. "Okay then, watch me dial."

"Uh...Dom. When you say you're going to dial..." Jo nervously followed him as Dominic walked over towards the large windows that allowed the pale gleam of the moon into the otherwise dark room. "You're not going to do anything drastic, are you?"

"Drastic? Why would I do something drastic? I'm just going to help the phone get out from under all this blocking shielding." Dominic seemed to grow larger, his features becoming somewhat thicker and animalistic. His shoulders widening as muscle and mass was added. He had shifted to the glabro form, that of the bestial man. He turned and grabbed onto a large metal desk that sat in a corner. He glanced over his shoulder and eyed the windows with a sneer.

"Wait! Hold on! Literally hold on!" Jo scampered forward and leaped upon the desk. She stared at Dominic and shook her head. "Think about it. Everything is going so smooth and quiet. Do you really want to do this?" Dominic slowly turned back to her. Then he again looked at the window. Then back again.

"Get off the desk Josephine. I'm getting this mission done. I'm putting it through that window and letting our communications through. And I'm doing it now."

"No. You're going to wait and take a few breaths to calm down. Now breath in..." Dominic breathed in deep. Jo nodded at him with a smile. Then Dominic growled as he turned and heaved the desk through the air to send it crashing through the window. Jo managed one startled shriek of terror before she plummeted out of sight along with the desk and the spray of shattered glass.

"Holy shit!" Charlie dashed forward in terror, horrified at what he had just seen. He turned to Dominic, his face contorted in shock and anger. "What the fuck did you do!"

"Opened up our phone lines," said Dominic with a grin as he reverted from his glabro to homid form and began dialing. He shoved his head out of the shattered window. "Oh yeah, listen to how clear that reception sounds!"

"You killed her!"

"What are you talking about. She's a Corax...she flies." Even as he spoke the words a large black raven came fluttering up through the window. It cawed loudly in anger at Dominic as it flapped about his head. He idly batted at it as he spoke into the phone. "Syntax? This is Dominic...what? They're on to us? Right, we just need help finding the computer, Josephine didn't pay attention to you."

"Says who," snapped Jo as she reverted back to her human form and dropped to the ground. "I would have been just fine if you'd not pressured me so much!"

"What do you mean they're on to us," hissed Charlie in fear.

"I don't need this from you," muttered Dominic as he frowned at Jo. "You were always messing things up. Always forgetting things and making the rest of us fix your mistakes."

"At least I don't keep trying to kill my friends!" Dominic's face seemed to go pale at the remark, his hands curling into tight fists. "You throw me through a window. You tell that damn story to the tribes and get-"

"It was no story! It was truth!" Jo scoffed at the words and rolled her eyes. Dominic took a threatening step forward. Charlie quickly stepped in-between them.

"Who's on to us," he demanded as he tried to get their attention back to the mission at hand. Dominic and Jo glared at each other for a few moments longer. Then they both turned away. Charlie waited nervously as he watched them both trying to calm down. Finally Dominic turned around.

"Here Josephine," Dominic's voice was cold as he shoved the phone towards her. "Talk, figure it out, and get Syntax into the system." Jo grabbed the phone from him and muttered under her breath as she held it up to her ear. Dominic turned and motioned to Charlie. "Come, we better secure our position." Dominic stalked through the door and down the hallway, Charlie nervously trailing in his wake. They quickly headed up the hall until they reached the bank of elevators.

"What are we going to do," asked Charlie as he watched Dominic eye the digital floor readouts. Suddenly one of the elevators dropped down to the lobby. Dominic grinned and pointed.

"We have guests." Dominic pulled Bonespur out from under his coat and wedged it into the gap of the elevator doors. With a grunt of effort he pressed against the klaive and opened the doors. Charlie watched as Dominic eyed the movement of the cable system inside. Dominic suddenly sprang into the elevator shaft and caught onto the ladder that ran along one wall. "Get back and wait, prepare for them when they arrive," said Dominic with a grin as he quickly started up the ladder.

Charlie swallowed nervously as he dropped back from the elevators. He allowed the rush of the wild to pour through him. Felt his muscles shift and expand as he called upon the war-form. He quickly shouldered a nearby door open and stepped into the office's doorway. He crouched there nervously and watched as the numbers of the elevator slowly climbed. He heard the whine of the lift as it pulled itself into view and came to a stop. The ding of the opening doors was mixed with the sound of tearing metal and horrible screams of pain. 

Charlie saw a man in a gray business suit stumble out of the open doors. He was bleeding from a brutal gash along his limp right arm. But much to Charlie's horror, the blood was syrupy thick and black. The man's left hand fumbled under his coat and pulled out a revolver as he turned back towards the elevator. Charlie snarled as he sprang forward and rushed down the hall. He roared as his powerful body slammed into the surprised man. Charlie's claws tore deep into the man's belly and ripped it open. He quickly hopped back as a spray of black liquid gushed from the wound to spray over the blue office carpeting. Charlie's nose wrinkled in surprise as he watched the black liquid burn and dissolve away the carpet. His hand flared in pain as the goo burned his flesh. He quickly bent and wiped it on the carpet to get the blood off.

"Fomori, all of them." Charlie turned at the words and saw Dominic stepping out of the elevator. The Shadow Lord was splattered with blood. His klaive dripped a steady stream onto the floor as Dominic lifted it in a slight salute to Charlie. "You had a good kill there. Fast and clean." Charlie nodded as he glanced into the blood spattered elevator. His eyes lifted slightly to spot the hole Dominic had torn through the roof. He shook his head in awe at the quick and brutally effective attack.

"So is that it?"

"No. There'll be more. Plenty more. And they won't make the mistake of coming up in only one lift next time." As if to add credence to Dominic's words suddenly all three of the remaining elevators started to move towards the lobby. Dominic snarled in annoyance as he again shifted up to his crinos form. "Go check on Josephine. Tell her we don't have much time. Hurry!" Dominic peeled open another set of elevator doors. However this time he simply started hacking at the cables. Sparks flashed as his klaive bit easily through the rubber coating and started to rip at the coiled wires below. 

* * *

It muttered in annoyance. Warning lights were flashing and beeping all across its console. One of its tentacles and ears had been burnt when one of the phones had shorted out while it was using it. It hissed as it threw up another barricade to hold off the strange hacker who was attacking the systems. It didn't fear the attack though. Despite the hacker's amazing speed and ability to hop systems it couldn't get in. The Allied Tower's system security was nigh unto invincible. A thought of frustration sent more defense systems spinning into action to destroy the interloper.

Some of its wide eyes swiveled to regard the assault of the returning guards. One elevator had been emergency locked on the forty-eighth floor. Another had lost its cable and been locked off on the twenty-seventh. It hissed in annoyance at the lone Garou who was sabotaging the systems. But he wouldn't last long. It gurgled in glee as it watched the men pour out of the emergency/service elevator onto the floor. It quickly contacted the team leader and informed him of the positions of all the intruders.

The ten man team quickly started to hurry through the halls towards the elevators. It quickly sent the emergency/service elevator rushing down to pick up more men. There was a momentary burble of laughter from it as it watched the men move. They were all veteran fomori, they would deal with this mess. They were also well armed, it had authorized the opening of the security arsenal on level three. It twisted to curiously watch the lone figure still in the mainframe room. It didn't understand what it was doing.

The female simply seemed to be crawling around on her hands and knees behind the computers. Occasionally she would rush back to a phone she had left laying by the hole in the window and shout into it. Curious it accessed another one of its computers and began scanning for the cell-phone's frequency. It also began to access the locking codes of the heavy security door. Another of its hands danced over another computer to continue the assault upon the hacker. It hissed in glee as it started to box it in. Soon it would rip apart the intruder and trace it back to its source. Then it would deal with the foolish hacker. It allowed itself a moment of congratulatory pride. Once again it had defended the Towers, none of the attackers would survive. 

* * *

"Jo, we got problems!" Charlie shouted the warning as he burst through the doors and back into the mainframe room. Jo suddenly popped up from behind one of the rows of large black computer cases. Her long black hair tangled about her annoyed face.

"Really? I hadn't realized, thanks for filling me in."

"Dominic says hurry," he growled around his fangs, "don't have time." Charlie rushed over and peered down at her. "Anything I can help?"

"Not unless you can figure out which one of these stupid pieces of junk is the mainframe server." Jo suddenly shouted in surprise as she grabbed a wire. "Aha! Here you are! I found it, I literally found it!" Jo sprang to her feet and leapt around to the front of the machine, she promptly kicked it and started pulling at the outer casing. "Now if you'd just open the fuck up..." Charlie quickly leaned forward and brushed Jo aside. He grabbed the thin sheet of metal. His claws scrapped it apart as he grunted and peeled it away as though it were tissue paper. Jo smiled at him. "Thanks, now maybe you better check back in with Dominic. I'll catch up as soon as I'm done here."

"Good!" Charlie spun around and rushed back towards the door. There was a sudden loud clang as a steel bar hissed across the inside of the door and locked into place. Charlie snarled in annoyance as he rushed forward and slammed hard into the door. The metal didn't even buckle slightly. Charlie growled as he grabbed onto the lock and attempted to wrench it off the door. But it was to little affect, as the reinforced metal resisted all of his efforts. He howled in anger, realizing that now Dominic had been cut off and was fighting alone. 

* * *

Dominic was backing away from the rapidly rising elevators when his sensitive ears caught the sounds of footfalls behind him. He spun around in time to spot the man come rushing around the corner. The figure was clad head to toe in a black combat suit, and wore a face-shielding black helmet. The guard quickly raised the sub-machine gun in his hands and pointed it towards Dominic. The Shadow Lord snarled in annoyance as he sprang quickly to his left and slammed through the flimsy office wall he had been standing by.

Bullets snapped and hissed around the hole as Dominic turned right and leaped over the desk as he rushed hard into another wall. Paneling splintered and shattered around him as he charged through the next office. His hand lashed out to smash aside the desk as he shredded through yet another wall. Even as he burst into the third office he spun hard to his right and leaped towards the door. The wood split apart as he burst through it and back out into the hallway he had just exited. His hand lashed forward, catching the helmet of the guard as he drove it hard through the wall behind the man.

Only then did Dominic spot the large collection of figures, also in black uniforms, who had been following the point man around the corner. The closest quickly raised his shotgun and snapped off a wild shot. Dominic's left shoulder exploded in fresh pain as the silver rounds tore into his flesh. The bullets ripping open and aggravating his previous silver wound there. He snarled as his right hand quickly lashed up, his klaive tearing open the man's throat and ripping apart his chin and jawbone. There was a sudden bellow as the first figure stood again and leapt into Dominic.

The Shadow Lord grunted in surprise at the inhuman strength of the figure as it picked him up and drove him back through the shattered doorway behind him to smash hard into the edge of a desk. Through the shattered visor of the helmet Dominic caught a glimpse of the guard's twisted and angry face, and a gleam of his glowing red eyes. Dominic quickly drove his right forearm into the guard's throat to push him back. His other hand raked out to slash his claws across the guards chest. However, instead of tearing flesh, all the claws did was shred away the black uniform to reveal a bony chestplate covering.

The enraged formor suddenly punched hard into Dominic's side. Dominic hissed as he felt something sharp tear into him. When the formor pulled back its arm Dominic could see the sharpened spurs of bone that jutted from the clenched fist. Dominic's head snapped forward, his fangs tearing into the formor's shoulder and grating against the bone plates as he quickly pushed out with his arms. The formor staggered back, knocked off balance by the unexpected dual attack. Dominic's eyes flashed over the formor, searching for any sign of weakness. His gaze zeroed in on a slight crease in the middle of the chest where the two pieces of the breastplates met. 

He sprang forward, Bonespur hissing in towards the target. His blade smashed hard onto the plates. Dominic quickly angled the blow and pushed down, jamming his knife into the joint and peeling the plates apart. The formor bellowed in pain as it lashed out again with its spiked fist. Dominic quickly stepped to the right away from the blow. He reached up with his left arm and blocked the swing as he used his momentum to shove in extra hard with his klaive. There was a sharp crack as the bone plates split and his blade sank deep into the formor. Dominic quickly shoved out and cast the dead guard off his blade and into the hallway. While the other fomori hesitated to fire as their comrade blocked a clear shot Dominic turned and leapt back through the hole he had first made to enter this office.

Behind him he heard the shouts from the fomori as they charged into the office after him. Dominic rapidly stopped his run and leaped to the side, bursting back out into the hallway amidst a cloud of shattered plaster and paneling. He rushed forward, his claws and blade lashing out as he tore a bloody path through the last few guards in line. Then he was past them and sprinting down the hallway. The fomori bellowed in confusion and anger as they tried to figure out what he had just done. By the time they had collected their senses and began firing he was around the corner and out of sight.

He ran quickly down the long hallway. Behind him he heard the angered yells as the fomori gave chase. He dove around the next corner even as they began firing at him again. Dominic didn't even pause as he continued his headlong rush back towards the computer room. He raced around one last corner and down the hall to the door at the far end. He shouldered hard into the door while turning the handle. He grunted in surprise as he slammed into the hard metal and it didn't open. He peered through the small window and saw Charlie standing on the other side and yelling frantically. Dominic twisted around as he heard the approach of the fomori. They burst around the corner. He stood trapped at the far end of the hall with no cover. 

Then they began to fire.


	7. Swirling Clouds of Blood

Look at me and know that free time hath become a thing of dreams. I was polishing off the rough work on chapter twelve and thought I saw the end of the story. But (uh-oh, a but, terror of storytellers everywhere) as I lay in bed about to go to sleep I came up with a new (and better of course) plot twist that will add at least another chapter to this beast. Then (yes there is a then...sort of like a but, but with more ominous overtures) as I was working on that I thought (literally mind) that the story was a little too cluttered. So I went and removed one of the sub-plots that was due to start showing up in this chapter. Now, what do you think I did with the sub-plot? If you guessed shoved it aside and forgot about it you are wrong. If you guessed started a whole new story give yourself a star. I'm fearful about the possibilities of this sequel (especially when I'm struggling to finish the original) but I think I like the characters so much I'll forge on ahead. Oh well...this chapter resolves the cliffhanger, offers more Blue Storm, and showcases Jo's dietary issues.

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter 7: Swirling Clouds of Blood 

The darkness around him glinted with the baleful red eyes of the computers. The strange red glow making him all the more uneasy for being here. Charlie wrenched at the metal bar on the door, but the reinforced titanium alloy was beyond even his considerable crinos strength. Behind him Jo typed away frantically at a keyboard, desperately trying to open up the system to Syntax. Charlie looked back through the window and suddenly gasped in surprise. Dominic came rushing around the corner, trails of blood streaming from his klaive and his own wounds. He leapt forward and elbowed hard into the door, but to no avail.

"It's locked! We can't get out," he shouted in the Garou tongue. Dominic didn't seem to hear, instead he twirled around. Behind him Charlie saw a host of black uniformed guards come into view. Their mirrored helmet faceplates glinted sinisterly as they raised their weapons and began to fire at the trapped Shadow Lord. "Noooo!" Charlie howled in impotent horror at the ghastly end for the great hero. 

But Dominic reacted quickly. He sprang upward, his body tearing through the ceiling above him as he disappeared from sight. The guards quickly rushed forward, their guns warily pointed upwards. Charlie watched as one looked in at him, then pulled out a walkie-talkie and began speaking into it. He frowned as he backed away from the door, fully expecting the worst. Suddenly there was a loud noise of shattering glass behind him. Charlie spun around to see a desk plummet past the window and out of sight. A few instants later Dominic, back in his homid form, was swinging through the hole in the glass window. A fire hose was gripped in one of his hands and stretched back out to the floor above.

"What's going on," growled Dominic as he quickly stormed into the room. "Charlie, why didn't you come back and support me?"

"Door was locked," explained Charlie weakly, realizing how pathetic that excuse seemed now. Dominic said nothing, but Charlie knew the Shadow Lord was thinking him a fool. Why hadn't he thought of going out the window and breaking through from one of the less secure rooms?

"Josephine, tell me good news," snapped Dominic as he leaned forward to peer through the door's window at the guards who were arraying themselves into defensive positions.

"I know what I'm doing, I just need a few more...there! I've done it!" Charlie turned around and eyed the computer system warily. Suddenly the blinking red lights started to flare out. Replacing them were softly gleaming blue lights. Jo laughed and looked over at Dominic, she snapped her fingers. "Told you it'd be a snap! Literally I told you!"

"Then let's see if we can also get out of here alive," he snarled as he turned and pointed to the window. "Charlie, you first. Go down as far as that blasted hose will take you." Charlie felt his ears droop slightly at the minor insult. To have him withdraw before even Jo had... He shook his head in frustration as he turned and rushed for the window. "Jo," called Dominic, "get on the phone and make sure Syntax locks this door off tight so they can't open it!"

"No sweat," said Jo as she hopped across the room to grab the phone. Charlie dropped out of sight of them then. The chill morning air ruffled at his fur as he quickly scaled down the hose. Below him the city was starting to come to life, the trailing streaks of headlights glinting in the darkness. On the horizon he saw the lightening of the sky from black to blue He reached the end of the hose, it had only taken him down about five stories. He gripped the cold metal nozzle as he leaned over towards the window. His hand lashed out, claws smashing open the thick glass. He struck it again, shattering a wider hole. He quickly swung into the dark office and released the hose. He waited there nervously for the others, wondering how they would get out of here. 

* * *

Leona held tight to her bleeding gut as she tried to push herself back to her feet. However her usually sleek and powerful crinos form seemed too weak to manage the simple task. Across from her Snapback quietly rose to his feet. When the Dancer had first dropped him the usually fearsome metis had appeared truly scared. Now his eyes were narrowed, his fanged maw twisted in anger. Leona looked back to the Black Spiral Dancer who had wounded them, and the strange rescuer who had appeared. They had been silently watching each other for the past few moments. Their cold and deadly eyes locked together as they both seemed to wait for some sign.

The Dancer's attack was once more too fast for Leona to follow. However the speed didn't seem to leave the stranger as stunned as it had her. He quickly sprang back, avoiding the flaming arc of the blades by mere inches. However he also snapped out his hand in a sharp jab. As he did so he shifted quickly to crinos form. The sudden gain in size and reach allowed his claws to rake along the side of the Dancer's face, despite the stranger's retreating leap. The Dancer jerked back in surprise, the smile disappeared from his face. The stranger landed lightly on his feet, his body already reverting to his human shape. The brief flash of his crinos form only a momentary glimpse to Leona's awed gaze.

"You are the one," muttered the Dancer slowly. His long black tongue slipped from his mouth to lap at the blood dripping from his torn cheek. "It was you who decimated Pugdog's pack." Leona gasped in surprise at the statement. Had this one warrior defeated a whole pack? The stranger simply crouched slightly, his own hands lifting into a ready combat stance. He started to advance on the Dancer.

"Hurry, box him in!" Argent's cry startled Leona from her careful scrutiny of the stranger. She looked up as Argent started forward, now apparently eager for battle. His clothes melted away as silvery white fur sprouted across his body. His body expanded into a tall and powerful crinos form. His eyes now seemed brighter and more aware as he snarled at the Dancer. Snapback growled as he fell in alongside Argent and advanced. The Dancer spun about, warily keeping an eye on all of the Garou. He snarled in frustration as he suddenly turned and sprang back onto the rooftops.

"Let him go," said the stranger as Snapback and Argent made to follow. "There are more important matters for us to worry about." He turned to eye Argent up and down, the aged Silver Fang returned to his homid state. The stranger's quiet and dark eyes narrowed slightly. "I presume you came to find Dominic and Charlie?"

"Yes we did," said Argent with a small smile. "But I am happy to see you. I never would have thought to find you involved with this mess. How are you old friend?"

"I draw breath yet." The stranger turned away from Argent to look down at Leona. "She will need help moving. You," he motioned to Snapback, "help her. Follow me, I know where we need to go." He quickly jogged back up the alley to retrieve his wooden case. Then he walked past them to lead the way. Leona shifted down to her lupus form as Snapback reverted to homid. He bent down and picked her up in his arms. She nuzzled her head against his chest, happy for the supporting strength of his strong arms. She listened to the quiet beating of his heart, surprised at how quickly it had grown calm after the battle. However that didn't concern her, she just allowed herself to rest as she listened to the soothing rhythm. She glanced up as Snapback fell into step alongside Argent.

"Lord, who is this man, and why does he treat you with disrespect?" She asked him the question quietly, but her eyes burned eagerly for the answer. Snapback too glanced over towards Argent, curious of his reply. Argent sighed and swallowed slightly.

"He is an old friend from my younger days. He is a great warrior, but has little honor. I would not trust him overmuch. Nor put much faith into what he says." Argent glanced over at the two and smiled slightly. "He has had his brushes with the Wyrm before, and none can come back from the edge of that chasm unmarked." The stranger took them to a large warehouse. He tried the door, but it was locked. He frowned and muttered in annoyance. Argent looked over the door and the walls with a sigh. "Reinforced by Pattern Spiders more then likely, I don't think she wishes to be intruded upon. So tell me, my friend, how did you become involved in all this?"

"Because a girl was almost raped and smiled afterwards," he said cryptically. Argent's brows lowered in confusion. Leona glanced up curiously at Snapback who shrugged. The stranger pounded on the door as he shouted loudly. "Syntax, are you there? Sphinx! We need to get in, the password is Sphinx!" Leona's eyes widened in shock as the door suddenly swung silently open. The stranger nodded and motioned them hurriedly inside. Obviously full of nervous energy for action. "Come, we'll learn what we can do to help here."

They entered into a massive and expansive warehouse. The stranger led them towards a back corner which had a large stairway that wound up to the upper level of the warehouse. He sprinted lightly up the steps, the others following more slowly. The door at the top of the stairs opened into a large and dark room. The wild hum of machines grated raw on Leona's nerves. Maddeningly bright and sudden lights flickered on and off in the darkness. The strange gleams casting unnatural shadows across the room. Leona felt herself suddenly tense at a soft whir off to one side. Her hackles rose in unease, and but for her wound she would have sprung from Snapback's arms and fled the place.

"I am busy at the moment," came a cold voice from the darkness. The stranger walked through the looming machines towards it. Argent and the others followed warily after. "Jo, Charlie, and Dominic are in trouble. The webs curl about them, and they may soon be trapped." Leona spotted the slim figure in black who sat behind the computers, her pale face illuminated in their sickly glow. The stranger walked up behind her and gazed dumbfounded at the screens.

"We have to help them somehow. Surely there is a way, how far off are they?"

"By the time you got there it would be over," snapped Syntax as she turned and began typing wildly on another computer. The one she had been on suddenly sparked and went out. "We have overextended ourselves and unless-" Suddenly the lights in the room seemed to slowly return, adding a dim glow to the once pitch darkness. The computer screen flashed as a metallic blue spider appeared upon it.

"Statement: The access has been opened, I have entered the mainframe system and blocked attacks on your system." Leona hissed uncertainly at the cold metallic hum of the voice. Syntax however seemed to grow quiet and still in calm relief. "Query: What course of action shall I take?" Syntax grinned, her teeth glinting in the light of her computer screen.

"Download financial records and personal files of all senior officers and board members." Syntax reached over and grabbed a cell phone that lay nearby. "Jo, I hold the keys now. They shall learn a lesson for assaulting my jungle." 

* * *

It growled in frustration as the elevators suddenly seemed to freeze, leaving security teams trapped within them. Its arms flailed and danced over the keyboards around it, its eyes darting over the displays. It scowled as it watched the safety walls crumble away into nothingness. Around it the red glow of the lights flickered. One by one the bright red gleams changed to a luminescent blue glow. It roared in pain as the keyboard suddenly sparked and shorted out. The screens flickered as information left them. It desperately worked to reopen systems, send out any last bits of information. It found one and chortled as it started to send it through some of the last active vestiges of the system. A brightly gleaming spider suddenly manifested on the screen.

"Statement: I am Blue Storm, messenger of Syntax." The master of security snarled at the image, some of its many eyes narrowing. It sent the last bits of the information through. It grinned, revenge would be had. The image of the spider pulsed menacingly, its metallic carapace seeming to glow bright blue as the last of the systems were silenced. "Statement: You have angered us. Reap now the bitterness of our discontent."

The security doors to the room hissed shut, steel bars locking into place. Sparks flew from the huge banks of computers. The creature dragged itself slowly from its chair. Tentacles scrabbled at the sealed door as monitors began to burst open. Its eyes twisted up to the Halon system that protected the room from fire. Protected it by removing the oxygen that fire needed to burn...and it needed to breathe. Computers popped and flared as fires burst out amongst them. Orange flames dancing about the chamber and reflecting in its many eyes, eyes full of fear. A voice warbled coldly through the sparking speakers. 

"Statement: Your chances of survival are calculated as; nonexistent." Red flashing lights snapped on, warning of a need to flee the room. Then they burst apart in a shower of sparks. It howled a pitiful wail of anger as vents opened and sprayed the room with a thick white gas. 

* * *

"Syntax says we better get out of here now. There are guards swarming all over this place. They're confused now, but the longer we wait the better organized they'll be." Jo turned to watch as Dominic backed hurriedly away from the door. He turned and rushed towards her and the waiting hose. "Get going," she called, "I'll catch up!" 

Dominic frowned slightly at her choice, but leapt onto the hose and quickly began sliding down it. Jo turned and leaped out of the window, her arms outstretched. The wind tossed her long hair about her as her jacket flapped wildly from the rush of air around her. Jo's body shrank and compacted. Her small bones became yet smaller, and hollowed. She tilted her wings with a triumphant caw as she lifted upwards from her plunge.

She flapped up towards the three holes in the side of the building and the hose dangling alongside them. She saw the dark shape of Dominic leap into the lower hole. She flapped higher, her eyes carefully watching the second hole. Suddenly she saw activity by the top hole. She cawed slightly in annoyance as she watched the men in black uniforms swing out onto the hose and start shimmying quickly down it. Their mirrored faceplates gleamed in the lights of the city, their guns glinted dully upon their backs. Jo sailed towards them, the guards paying no attention to the black raven.

Jo arced her wings wide as she swept in towards the top hole. Her wings dipped slightly as the edges of her feathers suddenly seemed to take on a strange metallic tint. The guard waiting at the hole looked up in surprise as the raven suddenly banked sharply and dropped right for the hose. Jo lowered one of her shoulders as she quickly lashed her wing around in a sharp slash at the hose. The hardened and sharpened edges of her feathers shearing through the tough material easily. There was a series of desperate screams as the four men on the hose plummeted towards the street below.

Jo cawed in loud amusement as she allowed herself to fall into a wild downward spiral. The remaining members of the guard team cursed in anger as they started to fire at her. The bullets cracked through the air around her. But Jo was a small and erratic enough target that they failed to hit her. She tucked her wings in tight against her sides as she soared through the lowest shattered window. She arced out into the hallway and fluttered her arms as she returned to her homid form. She dropped to the carpeting and smiled over at Dominic and Charlie who were standing nearby.

"They're coming down to get us...but they're taking the stairs."

"Good," said Dominic, "it seems we may not be totally doomed just yet." Even as he spoke a loud humming seemed to fill their ears. Jo spun around as a large black shaped loomed up outside the window. Her eyes widened as she stood transfixed in terror. The sleek black gleam of the helicopter gave it the seeming of a massive and deadly hunting insect. It rotated as a blindingly bright light stabbed into the building and lanced across them. Dominic's hand snapped out and grabbed her coat, he pulled her with him as he sprang away from the doorway. There was a sudden loud chatter of gunfire as the office was chewed up by a machine gun.

"These guys aren't kidding around," hissed Charlie as he pressed himself to the floor. Paint and bits of wood sprayed down upon them as the machine gun blasted gaping holes through the flimsy walls of the office. Jo felt Dominic shove her and began crawling along the hallway quickly, the others following. Soon enough the gunfire stopped as the helicopter pulled away. Jo could catch occasional flashes of its spotlight streaming under doors and across distant hallways. The helicopter circled about the building like an angry hunting dog, waiting for the chance to spring upon its prey.

"We need to find the elevators," growled Dominic, "get down the shafts to a lower floor." He motioned them to follow as he led them through one of the interior hallways. They ran up to the elevators, Dominic and Charlie easily prying open one of the doors. Dominic peered down it, and suddenly there was the sharp crack of a rifle. Dominic jerked back in surprise as the bullet hissed past his ear. "What the hell?"

"They must have snipers near the bottom. Probably to prevent us from using the shafts," offered Jo helpfully. Dominic frowned at her and spun around to eye the rest of the hall. Jo tried to smile. "How about we use that hose trick again, it worked pretty good."

"They'll get wise to it far quicker then we could ever get down," said Dominic with a shake of his head. "Besides, it would never be quick enough to escape that chopper. We just need to get out of here quickly and avoid the guards. They must be filling up the stairwells by now, and blocking us off from above and below..." Charlie suddenly looked up in wide-eyed excitement.

"I think I know another way!" 

* * *

Mr. Kay snapped his cell phone closed with a muttered snarl. He slipped it into the pocket inside his black coat and pulled out a notepad. His gold rimmed glasses glinted in the dim light of the crescent moon that shone through the window behind him. He quickly pulled out a silver plated pen and wrote down the information he had received. The tall African-American tilted his head to glance over at the ornate grandfather clock that sat against a nearby wall in the library of the mansion. He frowned slightly and walked towards the wall. As he stepped into the shadows there his body seemed to fade from view.

"...operations are proceeding most agreeably," said the man sitting at the desk. He was a young and bright faced man. His feet rested on the desk as he leaned back in his leather office chair. His sandy blonde hair was perfectly groomed, not a strand out of place. He smiled as he spoke towards the active speaker phone that sat upon the polished wood of the desk. "Really Colonel, I begin to suspect you of just being a little too antsy at times."

"These are uneasy times," said the voice on the phone, a slight trace of a English accent in the voice. "Caution is how one survives, and I have survived for far too long to make a mistake now. Are you sure you play the game wisely Robert? Are you certain you do not overstep yourself?"

"Overstep myself? Surely you jest." Robert chuckled slightly, then he spotted the tall figure stepping forth from the shadows near a bookcase. Mr. Kay walked forward and showed Robert the note. Robert's face drained of color as he sat up straight. "Excuse me Colonel, I'm afraid something has come up that requires my immediate attention."

"Of course, be very careful." The phone clicked off, Robert glanced up meaningfully at Mr. Kay.

"Came in just moments ago. The whole place is in an uproar, the Garou broke through the computer system's security. We have no idea how much information has been compromised, but Security seemed to believe that they had gained full system access."

"No." Robert raised his hands slightly and shook his head, as though denial could wipe away the existence of the problem. "This is not what I needed to hear." He glared up at Mr. Kay, but the tall figure remained silent. Robert grimaced as he thought over the problem. "Can our security teams deal with it?"

"A questionable matter."

"Blast!" Robert frowned as he slid open a drawer of his desk and pulled out a shriveled human ear. He quickly held the grisly and twisted piece of gray flesh up to his mouth and whispered into it. Then he shifted it so the ear was pressed up next to his own. He waited with a frown, his lips slowly curling back in anger. Finally he lowered the ear and slid it into his pocket. "Come Mr. Kay, we have some business to deal with and Garou to kill." 

* * *

They stood in a wide hallway that ran around the outer edge of the building. One of the walls was nothing more then huge sheets of glass. The other wall was a featureless progression of identical doorways. Dominic snarled in agreement as he looked out the window and down to the massive glass and steel walkway that connected the two towers. Charlie felt a flush of pride wash through him as Dominic accepted his plan. Jo shrugged as she turned and rushed down the hall for the nearest stairwell.

"Okay, we like the kid's plan. Now let's make it happen, literally!" Charlie grinned as he turned around to follow Jo towards the door. Suddenly the door was slammed open. A figure in black leapt into the hallway, rolling along the carpet and coming up in a crouch. His sub-machine gun quickly sweeping towards Jo. Charlie looked on in fear as she gasped and tried to skid to a stop. The guard's finger tightened on the trigger...then suddenly jerked back as a gleaming flash of silver slapped into his chest and tossed him to the carpet.

"Beware," bellowed Dominic as he sprang forward. He shouldered aside Charlie as he transformed in mid-leap into his crinos form. More guards burst out of the door as Dominic landed near his knife. Charlie quickly started forward, he grabbed Jo with one large paw and easily shoved her behind him. She squealed in surprise as she was tossed away to land unceremoniously on her backside. Dominic spun towards the door as all of the guards aimed their weapons at him. Charlie rushed forward to help, but knew he would be too late.

Suddenly Dominic brought his hands around to clap them together in front of him. The clap seemed unnaturally loud. There was a roar as the glass around Dominic shattered, spraying around him in a gleaming cloud of sharp splinters. Charlie staggered slightly as just the outer edges of the shockwave seemed to hit him. The front guard was hurled back, his helmet's faceplate shattering as he howled in pain. All around him the other guards seemed to stagger and be tossed about. Thrown off balance and dazed by the soundwave.

Dominic quickly reached down and jerked Bonespur from the chest of the dead guard. His eyes seemed to flare angrily as he roared and leaped into the stunned fomori. A bright spray of blood spattered across Charlie's face as Dominic tore his klaive through one of their guts. Dominic's other hand lashed out, his claws slipping under the faceplate of the armored helmet of a second guard. He squealed in pain as Dominic lifted him up, blood pouring down from inside the helmet, coating the Shadow Lord's black furred arm. Dominic then tossed the body forward, sending it slamming into the stunned men before him. 

Dominic readied himself as the two remaining fomori quickly regained their feet. One of them growled and seemed to grow as his clothes shredded away from his body, revealing the bright red and exposed muscles underneath. The creature's flesh was slick with a coating of mucus and blood. Its much smaller companion simply tore off its helmet. Its jaw seemed to become unhinged, gaping open like a snake's. Massive fangs grew into place as it hissed loudly. Charlie started forward to help as Dominic eyed the pair carefully.

"Look out!" Charlie twisted his head about in surprise even as Jo leapt and rammed full speed into the back of his left knee. He grunted in surprise as her blow cast his leg out from under him, causing him to collapse to the ground. He wrenched about wildly as he fell, trying to avoid crushing her beneath his massive body. There was a chattering of gunfire as bullets hissed over his head. Charlie turned around to see the squad of eight figures now charging down the hallway towards them. "I think we're in a world of shit," hissed Jo, "literally in shit."

Charlie grabbed her as he sprang to the side and muscled open an office door. More bullets raked the ground where he'd been laying only moments before. He snarled in the back of his throat as he saw the silver gleam of the bullets that were now embedded in the gray carpeting. There was a sudden roar. Charlie looked up in surprise as he saw the massive, bloody muscled, creature leap into Dominic. It seemed to slam the Shadow Lord back as though his powerful black and white furred body weighed next to nothing. Charlie suddenly shouted out in terror as he watched the pair go sailing through the shattered remains of a window and plunge away into the darkness below.

"No!" Charlie sprang to his feet even as the serpent fomor came leaping into the room. Charlie growled in anger as he swung his claws for its face. But the creature suddenly seemed to pull back its body, its spine bending at an unnatural angle as his claws passed harmlessly in front of it. Before Charlie could react its head snapped forward again, fangs sinking into his arm. He bellowed in rage as his second arm swung around and smashed hard into its side. He heard the gratifying popping of bones, but the creature only bit down harder. There was a sudden wave of pain as it felt like liquid silver was pumped into his arm. 

Charlie ceased to think, only knowing he wished the fomor off his arm. He bellowed as he grabbed its head and twisted and pulled with all his might. Lances of agony slashed through his arm as he heard a horrible crunching noise. With a last angry roar he tore the fomor off him and tossed it aside. One of its teeth had been cracked apart, and still lay embedded in his left arm. His arm was simply a pure bit of pain attached to his body, it drooped weakly to his side. Charlie looked up angrily at the creature. Blood dribbled from its mouth as it glared up at him. Charlie growled and sprang forward. Suddenly its mouth opened as a stream of syrupy greenish liquid sprayed from its last tooth to splash into Charlie's face.

He wailed in pain as he crashed to the carpet. His eyes felt like red hot needles had been driven into them. His hand wildly wiped at his face, desperate to remove the horrible liquid. He could see nothing, his vision was a wild blur of white hot flashes of pain. He heard a hiss of glee somewhere in front of him. He blindly swung out his arm, trying to fend off the fomor. Suddenly there was a loud squawk that seemed to pain his ears such was its intensity. There was a startled gasp from the fomor, and then Charlie heard the sound of flesh being ripped apart.

"Get. Up. Literally. Move!" He felt sharp, bony fingers press into his shoulder and urge him to his feet. He staggered as he stood, his vision starting to clear, though still blurry. "Follow!" Charlie blinked in surprise as a large dark shape rushed past him and into the hallway. There was a sudden spray of bullets as it sprang through the window and became a large raven. Charlie's vision cleared as he watched her circle over the top of the walkway. He growled as he ran into the hallway and leapt. 

* * *

Dominic snarled as he fell through the air. The massive beast atop him growled back. There was a sudden and jarring impact as they smashed down hard, the sound of glass crunching and cracking beneath them. Dominic quickly shoved out, forcing the fomor off him as he rolled backwards and to his feet. They stood upon the top of the walkway between the two buildings. Far below the distant sounds of the city could be heard. Bright flaring spotlights flooded up around the walkway, darkening the shadows along the top. The air gusted powerfully around them, catching and pulling hard at their bodies. Dominic snarled as he eyed the fomor, judging it carefully.

The beast grinned as its fingers suddenly seemed to burst apart, bloody talons of bone jutting through the flesh. It opened its mouth to reveal its black slug-like tongue. Hissing whispers seemed to carry easily through the roar of the wind to Dominic's ears. He knew well what they were, he had felt their power before. The fomor had learned the language of The Wyrm itself. It spoke blasphemies that could not be understood, yet could still drain the will of those who heard. Dominic quickly began to bellow out his own chant. The Order of Duty, an ancient battle chant of the Garou. Attempting to drown out the Wyrm's darkness with the strength of his own beliefs and duties.

"What is our duty? To serve Gaia's will!"

Dominic sprang forward, his klaive gleaming with silver light. The fomor sprang as well, its tongue still warbling out the Dark Litany of The Wyrm. Its clawed hand swung out for his face, but Dominic quickly raised his klaive to block. The silvered blade cut deep into the beast's wrist. His other arm quickly snapped out to catch the descending swing of the fomor's right hand, Dominic's body shook under the mighty impact of the creatures strength. His wounded shoulder exploding in a flash of pain. But he held firm its hand, and stopped the swing. The two stood there for a moment, testing strength to strength, Dominic felt his arms begin to buckle. The fomor grinned eagerly as it slowly started to press his arms inward.

"What is Gaia's will? That we fight and die!"

The creature hissed as its tongue suddenly snapped out of its mouth. The rough edges slashed along Dominic's cheek, ripping open his flesh. Dominic growled as he jerked his blade from its wrist and twisted to the left. He kept his grip tight on its wrist as he moved to its side. The powerful beast staggered forward as it found itself pressing against nothing. Not agile enough to quickly follow or correct for Dominic's sudden move. It blathered on its inanities as Dominic twisted its arm up behind its back.

"What is death? It is our duty!"

His klaive slammed into its back as he shoved forward. The fomor staggered as Dominic continued to press it hard from behind. Its eyes suddenly bulged as he sharply twisted its wrist and shoved it to the side. Its large feet clumsily slid along the glass of the roof edge as Dominic jerked his blade from its back and released his hold on the arm. It snarled as it tried to turn, but Dominic's foot snapped up and smashed hard into its back. With a mournful bellow of madness it tilted forward and plummeted over the edge of the walkway.

"What is our duty? To serve Gaia's will," Dominic whispered as he watched it smash into a pulpy mess on the streets far below. There was a sudden loud caw. Dominic turned as he saw Jo swoop by overhead. She twisted around to circle back, still cawing. The large brown shape of Charlie suddenly sprang through one of the shattered windows and smashed down hard onto the walkway. More glass shattered as the guards still in the building turned and began to fire through the windows. Charlie staggered forward, bits of glass spraying up around him as the bullets rained down about him. "Move it pup," bellowed Dominic as he started forward, "we need to get away!"

"I know!" Charlie snarled the words as he continued to run. Dominic noted that his left arm was hanging dead at his side, a gleaming fang embedded deep into the flesh. He glared back up at the guards as some of them dropped through a window and down onto the roof of the walkway. Broken bits of glass crunched under their boots as they sprinted forward. Dominic reached out and shoved Charlie past him, pushing him towards the far tower.

"Go! Head for the tower!" As he had back on the lake Charlie turned back, unwilling to abandon Dominic. However Dominic simply snarled right in the young pup's face, his breath steaming out around them. Charlie's ears dropped back as he quickly retreated before Dominic's angry glare. With one last look he turned and continued on to the second tower. 

* * *

Jo circled overhead, easily gliding on the sharp wind currents that hissed around the two buildings. She watched as the fomori charged forward, firing wildly as they came. Dominic stood waiting for them, his teeth bared and klaive ready. She frowned as she watched, didn't it occur to him battling atop a glass roofed walkway over forty stories in the air was a bad idea? Especially when he happened to weigh far more then the average human?

Dominic suddenly sprang forward, his legs launching him high into the air and over the bullets. The five fomori on the walkway quickly snapped their guns up and sprayed the air with silver rounds, casings clattered and rained down around them. Jo felt a cold stab of fear press through her as she saw some of the silver streaks cut into Dominic's black fur. Streams of red trailed after him as he dropped down amongst the fomori with a loud crash.

The glass rooftop of the walkway shattered in a shower of sharpened shards. Dominic and the fomori fell into the walkway below, their bodies cut and shredded by the slivers of glass. Jo quickly tucked her wings in and banked downward towards the hole. As she approached she watched the struggling shapes through the clear glass walls of the walkway. Dominic moved in a powerful black blur, each of his lightning fast attacks batting aside one of the smaller shapes. As he struck one a spray of blood washed across the window, concealing her view behind a curtain of red gore. Jo arced down and fluttered over the opening as she viewed the carnage.

Four of the fomori were dead. Their bodies lay in crumpled and bloody masses about the tunnel. Some had obviously shown their mutations as sprays of green acid and severed sections of tentacles also littered the area. Dominic stood pressed against the bloody pane of glass. The tuft of white fur on his chest stained red. Blood leaking and dripping from multiple wounds. He snarled as he gripped his gore stained klaive tightly. Across from him stood the last fomor, its shirt torn open to reveal a second set of arms. It gripped four knives of its own, all gleaming silver. Its helmet had been torn off, and a bloody gash across its forehead leaked blood into its left eye. It waited with a nasty leer on its face, knowing time was on its side.

Jo screeched loudly as she swept into the tunnel. The fomor looked up in surprise as she dove into his face in a flurry of feathers and beating wings. Her beak lashed out and the fomor squealed in pain. One of his knives clattered to the ground as his hand snapped up to clutch at his bloody face. His other arms waved about in blind anger, the silver slashes barely missing her as she flapped away quickly. Dominic grunted in thanks as he sprang forward. He smashed the fomor up against the wall as he sank his klaive deep into its chest. With a twist and jerk of his arm Dominic tore his blade through the fomor's ribs and tore open its chest. The guard collapsed to the ground, blood gushing from the horrendous wound and leaking from his empty eye-socket.

The doors on either end of the tower seemed to slide open at the same instant. Charlie stood at one, worriedly waving them to him. More black suited guards burst through the second They issued a mad cry of fury as they rushed forward at a dead run. Then came the blinding flash of white light. It streaked through the blood spattered walls and painted Dominic in an eerie red wash of color. Jo nearly choked in horror as the insectoid hunter came whirling into view, the chopper's search beam stabbing towards them as it hummed menacingly.

"Shit," snarled Dominic as he turned and began a mad run for the doors to the second tower. Jo flapped along frantically, her muscles straining as she sped along with him. There was a loud roar, as though the black monster had sensed their escape. Glass erupted behind them as a machine gun tore apart the walkway. The helicopter turned quickly, sweeping the spray of the machine gun fire after them. Holes were blasted through the floor and walls as the raging storm of destruction closed in on them.

Jo flapped as hard as she could as Dominic dove forward in a desperate leap. Glass burst around them, silvered chunks sprayed in a cloud that obscured their vision. The bright streak of tracer rounds howled through the air. Jo felt her feathers ruffle as a bullet roared over her, missing her back by mere centimeters. 

Then they were bursting through the door and back into the solid quiet of a hallway. They quickly rushed down the hallway and away from the windows. Dominic sank to his knees as they stopped, his mouth open as he breathed hard. His numerous cuts and injuries bleeding heavily. Jo flapped over and landed weak with fatigue upon the ashtray part of a trash can. 

Charlie stepped forward and reached down to help Dominic to his feet. The Shadow Lord snarled as he shoved him back. Dominic then made a show of standing up, his face drawn tight in pain. Jo noted the large hole blasted through his side, bright blood seeped from it to soak into his matted fur. Though some of the smaller cuts were quickly healing closed. Charlie glanced over worriedly at her, probably hoping she'd be able to help. She sighed, Dominic wasn't the type one could help. She simply shrugged at Charlie, then she tilted her head back. She sighed happily as the fomor's eyeball was crushed in her beak and sucked down her throat. She hopped off the trash can as she resumed her homid form and smacked her lips happily.

"Hey Dominic, if you can still move we better get out of here. This tower switch isn't going to buy us a huge load of extra time y'know." As though to prove her point there was a flash of cold light streaming under doorways and a distant rustle of wind as the helicopter circled about outside. She turned to head for the stairs and noticed Charlie staring at her in shock. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked back. "What?"

"You. Ate. An. Eye."

"Your point?" Jo shrugged at him. Dominic muttered as he grabbed her shoulder and shoved her forward. He shook his head at Charlie, a message to drop the subject. Jo frowned in frustration as she allowed herself to be corralled down the hall. What was so wrong with eyeballs? They tasted good. "They taste good," she pointed out loudly as they approached the elevators. "I mean, have you ever tried them?"

"Jo, don't even," cut in Dominic as he started to peel open the elevator door. Charlie stood back from them a bit, a nervous look on his face as he eyed her. Jo smirked at him as she leaned in slightly.

"C'mon kid. You can eat raw meat just like a real wolf. Ravens are carrion birds, what'd you expect?" Charlie nodded slowly, his face still a little pale. There was a loud cry of metal gears twisting against their will as Dominic pulled the doors open. He quickly reached into the shaft and swung himself out onto the cables. Jo walked up and looked into the narrow shaft with a frown. Charlie pressed up behind her.

"What's wrong," he grumbled as he motioned her in, "we must hurry."

"I know, it's just too small to fly down, and I don't do cables. Isn't there a better way?" Charlie pointed meaningfully to the ladder that ran down one side of the shaft. "That's not quite what I meant," Jo sighed glumly as she reached out timidly for the nearest rung. Charlie promptly shoved her forward. She gasped in surprise as she desperately grabbed onto the ladder. "What the hell man! What the hell?"

"Hurry," he growled as he sprung out onto the cables. Despite his limp arm he began a fairly quick descent down the shaft. Jo muttered in frustration as she began to climb down the cold metal rungs. The dark gray walls of the shaft loomed about her. Jo shuddered slightly as she continued down. She felt small beads of sweat collecting along her brow. Her hands seemed to become slick, the ladder hard to hold onto. She breathed in slowly, forcing herself to just concentrate on the climb. Not to let her feet shake too much as they lowered for the next rung. Not to pay attention to the huge black walls. 

* * *

The burning pain of his arm had given way to a numb nothingness. Charlie slid down the thick cables after Dominic. He could feel the blood pounding through his veins. He wasn't sure if it was from fear, excitement, or both. He knew though that he would never regret the coming. This was a mission worthy of a song. He would write it, they would all be remembered for what they did here tonight. As he continued to slide slowly down the cable he found himself starting to hum a small tune. He suspected it would make for a good chorus.

Then came the bright flashes of light from below. Charlie howled in pain as he felt a bullet cut along his back. The pain screamed along his muscles, a mad burning agony that could not be described. The burn of silver. Below he heard the angry growl of Dominic. He looked down as he saw the Shadow Lord quickly climbing up the cable towards him.

"Open that damn door and get through!" Dominic's harsh order echoed about the dark shaft. Charlie quickly stepped over onto the ledge. His senses and body burned with the fear of silver, he angrily snarled at the door in his path. His hand slammed into the crevice of the doors. His muscles bunched as his claws tore rents in the smooth metal. With a grinding crunch the doors were pulled apart. Charlie stumbled through them and turned around. Following him came Dominic, who leapt quickly through. Even as he landed Dominic spat in annoyance. "Where's Josephine!?!"

"Still in there," said Charlie as he worriedly peaked back into the shaft. Bullets rang and sparked off the walls. Apparently the snipers in this elevator had opted to hold their fire for a more accurate shot...their plan had almost worked. "Jo, down here!"

"I hate this!" Jo's cry echoed weirdly from the shaft. Dominic snorted as he shouted back at her.

"Get down here now! Move!" Charlie could just make out the small shape of Jo a few floors above them. She clung tight to the ladder, her body curled up slightly in fear as she perched on one of the rungs, unmoving. Dominic snarled as he turned back into the hallway, he grabbed a potted plant.

"What are you-" began to ask Charlie. Then Dominic turned and hurled the plant and pot up the shaft. There was a loud thump and a cry of surprised pain from Jo. The impact upset her hold to the ladder, and she tipped backwards and fell with a scream. Dominic's large arm shot into the shaft as his hand closed about her ankle. With an easy jerk he pulled her to him and dropped her to the ground. "-doing with that," finished Charlie slowly as he looked down at the frightened Corax. She sat quietly, her eyes wide, as she took a few quick breaths. Then she looked up at Dominic.

"You're a real asshole, you know that? A literal asshole, literally!" She stood up indignantly, batting at Dominic's hand as he offered to help. "Now you can just leave me literally alone, okay!" Dominic snorted in annoyance as he turned and rushed down the hallway. Charlie followed, with Jo trailing behind. Dominic led them into a large, collective work area. Scores of cubicle walls separating the workers into little isolated holes. The whole place having the feel of a maze for mice.

"Excellent," snarled Dominic as he stormed up to the huge row of windows. 

* * *

"It's crazy down here Mr. Sands! I don't even know what's going on. The guy just was flashing all these badges and stuff, I didn't know what to think." Robert Sands stepped out of his limousine and was confronted with the blathering and worried Captain Sheats. The chubby human waved his arms frantically as he pointed up towards the smoking ruins of the walkway. "Do you see that Mr. Sands! I didn't call in the chopper, I didn't even know we had a chopper!"

"Mr. Kay, if you would," said Robert quietly as he gestured to the flustered human. Mr. Kay quickly stepped forward, his dark eyes glinting menacingly behind his gold rimmed glasses. He gripped Captain Sheats by the arm and lead him back towards the lobby where the other guards were discussing the events in the tower. Robert brushed a hand through his hair as he glanced over at Mr. Barnes. The timid and bland seeming man who really ran the security in the towers. "Status?"

"Security is dead. We pried open his door and found that he had been suffocated by the fire safety system." Barnes frowned at the thought, unsure how the systems would have turned against a creature so hard-wired into them. "I've also had confirmed losses of about three security teams. No confirmed casualties to the Garou. They just managed to gain access to the south tower, we're trying to redirect men now. I think the damn fleabags are on the twelfth floor."

"Think?" Robert turned to frown at Mr. Barnes, who hung his head in shame. Knowing full well the price of displeasing Robert Sands. Robert turned back to his towers angrily. "You shall make sure you get them Mr. Barnes. Nobody makes a fool out of me, nobody!"

"My teams close in on them even now, there's no way for them to get out of the twelfth floor. I promise you Mr. Sands, there's no way for them to escape." There was a sudden loud crash. Both men looked upward to the massive desk that was plummeting down towards them. They leaped back as the heavy piece of furniture smashed down upon Robert's limo, crushing the roof and spraying glass across the street. Robert looked up at a loud howl. He saw two massive werewolves spring from the window, their leap carrying them across the wide street to land atop the roof of a ten story bank across from the Allied Towers.

"They've just escaped Mr. Barnes," hissed Robert in frustration. His underling was already pulling out his cell phone and shouting orders into it. But Robert knew it would be too late, the Garou had evaded his grasp and torn through his buildings at their pleasure. He cursed as he heard the sounds of approaching police sirens. It would take half the damn day to clean up this mess and barricade the police from figuring out anything. He turned and marched into the North Tower, Mr. Kay seemed to just drift out of nowhere to follow him into the deserted back offices.

"Mr. Sands, we may have some difficulties covering up this incident. There was the unfortunate happenstance that around five 'special' team members managed to plummet out of the building and to the pavement. The problem being some of their...secretions are not normal bodily fluid. And a few have...more then the average number of limbs."

"Industrial espionage," snapped Robert as he slipped into a cubicle and grabbed the phone. "Get some boys out there in contamination suits and say something about genetic research. Don't let any of the cops get too close. And get some of the damn Sweepers down here to start fuzzing out some memories!" Mr. Kay nodded and slipped silently from the room. Robert sighed as he massaged his temples and sank into the office chair. He typed in a number and waited for the line to pick up. "Lonnie? This is Robert. Listen, I need you to tone down something for the papers. When they call and ask for the official statement tell them it was just industrial espionage, and that no one was killed. That's all I want to see when I read the papers, you got that?"

"So tense, Robert." As he hung up the phone Robert felt the cold caress of fingers on the back of his neck. He froze as he felt a face come down next to his ear, its breath gently brushing along his cheek. "The business world can be so hard at times. I'm so sorry to see these problems come to your doorstep."

"I just overextended a bit, I won't let it happen again." The fingers danced around his neck, hands pressing in on his throat. The coldness of the fingers biting at his skin.

"Tell me Robert, what about my shipments. Will there be any problems?"

"None."

"Good." The hands slowly withdrew from his neck. "Oh, Robert? Your men can't seem to handle these problems of ours." A scrap of paper sailed gently past his face and dropped to the desk. Robert looked down at the information and directions. "Perhaps it is time to bring back in the specialists?" Robert picked up the paper and read the words at the top in a quiet hiss of anger and fear.

The Black Spiral Dancers. 


	8. Interlude

In The Eye of The Storm: An Update of Detroit 

It occurred to me (mostly through a little bit of confusion in some reviews) that one of the bigger problems of posting has come to infect my story. To wit, with a long story, with long gaps between posts, it is near inevitable that a reader might become confused as to the flow of the story. Thus I thought (literally) that since I am at more or less the halfway point in the story, it was about time the 'eye of the storm' came around. (You get it? Halfway? Eye of the storm? Get it, get it? Hahaha- why is nobody laughing?) In any case this will be a little update on my vast horde of characters (and I swear this is all there will be...no really...okay, there will be another major one or so, but I'll mention them here too...literally!) And also a brief recap of the story thus far. 

Dramatis Personae 

The Garou (Our Heroes) 

Dominic "Rend-the-Darkness" Winford: In many ways one of my favorite characters. Dominic is a skilled Shadow Lord and Philodox (Judge of the Ways). He is one of the heroes of The Pit and wields the klaive Bonespur. (A klaive being a special blade made by Garou to kill Garou) He is a powerful force in the tribes, and apparently serves on the council of elders and serves as the enforcer for many of the edicts. His name is spoken with respect and fear by even the Black Spirals. He is harsh and caustic, yet extremely honorable and loyal to his friends (to the extent of being willing to face near certain death for them) Dominic has some unresolved issues with most of the other heroes of The Pit (Especially the ronin) He seems to care for Jo (and is the only one who calls her Josephine) yet is also often angered by her actions. He is annoyed by much of Charlie's naiveté, and has offered his own dark views on Garou life as a counterpoint to Charlie's bright visions of heroes. Dominic also seems to share a dark connection with Syntax, but as of this writing hasn't spoken of it. 

Charlie "Blackmuzzle" Snyder: A member of the Get of Fenris, Charlie isn't quite as bull-headed as his tribe is usually stereotyped. A Galliard, Charlie is a speaker of songs and tales. As a result he does have a surprising amount of information in his head, the problem is it's usually colored by misconceptions and poetic license. Charlie started the story as a bit of a loser, however his trials are quickly forging him into a better Garou. He admires Dominic, yet fears him. Is impressed by the ronin, yet disgusted by his depression. And seems to have managed to actually annoy Jo (worth noting since usually she just annoys everyone else) Charlie is learning some harsh lessons, it remains to be seen if his beliefs will survive his dark times with the last of the heroes of The Pit. 

The Ronin: The lone enigma of the forces of good, the ronin is a character shrouded in mystery. What is known is that he was apparently one of the great heroes of The Pit. During their final battle he apparently made a mistake or committed some crime. (Speculation abounds, but it is suspected Snowflake was involved) He was dishonored and tossed out of the tribes It appears as though Dominic was principle in this event taking place, and that the ronin holds some harsh feelings over the event. He also suffered from Harano (the deep mystical depression of the Garou) but recently seemed to pull himself out of it in an attempt to aid his fellows. He is also a highly skilled warrior, though he is loathe to use his skills. Has a connection to a young human he saved from rape, in return she seemed to give him the boost out of Harano. 

Syntax: A Glass Walker (the technology using Garou tribe) and a Theurge (spirit sorcerer) Syntax has been a powerful and capable ally to the other Garou. She dwells in her 'jungle' composed of technology and uses her powers to crack codes and seek out danger and secrets. She isn't good with people and seems to have a deep hatred for Dominic that she doesn't wish to discuss. This anger also extends in some degree to the whole Garou council. She is aided by Blue Storm, a modified Net Spider. She uses the technology spirit as an advisor and weapon. 

Lord Moros Argent: The eldest of the heroes of The Pit. Moros can feel the grip of old age, and seeks one last great victory for himself before his final passing. He is a skilled Theurge and canny politician. He seems to share much of Dominic's distaste for the ronin, and also has issues with Marn. The Black Spirals apparently don't consider him dangerous anymore. 

Leona "Throatripper": A member of Charlie's pack. Leona is a lupus, a Garou born and raised as a wolf. She is impulsive and rather violent at times, and has little patience for technology and diplomacy. Due to her wolfish upbringing she is uneasy in or around technology, however her senses seem sharper then even the other Garou. She seems to care about Charlie, but still considers him a bit of a weakling. She reveres Argent and seems to have also been mesmerized by the ronin. 

Snapback: The other surviving member of Charlie's pack. Snapback is a deformed hunchback due to his metis (being born of a Garou and Garou mating) nature. He is a skilled warrior though his attitude seems rather harsh to his packmates. Thus far Leona seems to be the only one who likes him. He has been a member of other packs, however they were always wiped out, leaving only him alive. Thus he is considered somewhat unlucky by the other Garou. (Leona considers him lucky) 

Lord Marn "One-eye": Get of Fenris Galliard, Charlie's uncle, one of the heroes of The Pit, and leader of the Raging Falls caern (spiritual wellspring from which Garou garner energy). Marn is the most powerful and respected Garou in the Detroit environs. He is a friend of Dominic, yet seems to have strangely abandoned him to Detroit without aid from the tribes. His reasons for this remain unknown. 

Snowflake, First-to-Find, Quentin "Shattered Tower": The other three heroes of The Pit, these three apparently fell in battle during that final conflict or since then. First-to-Find was destroyed by Malise, the dark priest of the shattered temple. Snowflake's story ties in with the ronin's somehow. What is known is that they trained and fought together expertly. However in the final moments of battle something happened that apparently slew her, and damned him. Quentin performed the ritual to banish Tyranthraxus, he was apparently a mighty Theurge, his fate is unclear, but it is presumed he died somewhere along the way. 

Jo (you knew she needed her own section) 

Josephine Corven (Jo): The last of the heroes of The Pit wasn't a Garou, rather it was a Corax, a wereraven (literally). Jo seems loyal and helpful to her friends, however it is quite clear she has her own agenda most of the time. She was a bit of a catalyst for this story as she is responsible for involving both the ronin and Syntax with Dominic's affairs. (and for this he is most angered at her...literally) Not a front line fighter or skilled Theurge, Jo has nonetheless saved the others in many subtle ways and means. Despite her often literally rambling speech methods Jo is an excellent source of information and advice. She has proved her willingness to manipulate her friends if she thinks it necessary. (And she seems to hold Dominic in contempt for what he did to the ronin) She also seems to hold a grudge against Garou who act too proud or superior to the other Changing Breeds. Despite her feminine nature Jo is quite mouthy and aggressive, and willing to do whatever it takes to get things done. Needless to say, this is one bird (Get it? I get it.) you don't want to turn your back on. 

The Black Spirals (Our Foes) 

Fer-guath: Leader of the Black Spiral tribe of Detroit, Fer-guath is an aged and dangerous Theurge. He forms one third of the ruling Triat of the tribe, and seems to hold the most sway. He is also one of the few people The Master lets see him. 

Endelon, The Master Assassin: The thin and deadly figure in black robes may not be the angel of death, but he may be just as deadly. Another part of the ruling Triat, Endelon is the wild card and silent killer. He seems to hold even his own tribe in contempt, though he does share a close kinship with Kendar. He wields two flaming klaives in battle and has proved capable of defeating almost anyone he has faced. (He even claims Dominic couldn't stop him) As such his lone hunting of the Garou is not to be taken lightly, as he can strike without warning, and kill quickly. Thus far only the ronin seems even a possible match for Endelon's skills. 

Kendar, The Head Collector: The hulking war leader and final third of the ruling Triat. Kendar is violent and feared. Despite his bestial nature he occasionally reveals flashes of insight that prove he is a wise and capable commander. Should he and his hunting packs ever locate the Garou they could be hard pressed to survive. 

Stinkface: The story started with him (will it end with him too?) Stinkface is something of a dark reflection of Charlie. He is an eager young pup struggling to learn and claim his place amongst his tribe. He too looks up to the great heroes of his tribe, and seeks to learn from them. Along with his packmates, Treeshaker and Rockcrusher, he has had a few embarrassing run-ins with Puck and desperately wishes to get his hands on the pooka trickster. 

Gorefist: One of the more effective pack leaders of the tribe. She is known for her murderous and lustfull tendancies. The current mate of Kendar, she enjoys a fair amount of power in the tribe. 

Allied/Pentex (Evil fomori...oooh, they're evil) 

Robert Sands: Head of Allied Chemicals and a member of the Wyrm infested mega-corporation Pentex, Robert Sands heads up the fomori and human operations of The Master in Detroit. He is one of the few pawns The Master openly appears to. He is apparently a capable and dangerous businessman, as to his other abilities little is known. 

Mr. Kay: Mr. Sands' chief aide and bodyguard. The grim Mr. Kay has revealed little of himself. 

The Colonel: Lurking on the perimeters of the story, The Colonel is a formori in charge of a kidnapping and white slavery ring. It is unclear if he will play a larger role in the plots of The Master. 

Strange Forces in the Shadows (even more evil then evil, more like Eviel) 

The Master: This strange shadowy figure seems to be pulling all the strings. What is known of him is that he controls Allied, The Spirals, some vampires, and the mage. He has revealed a fair spate of powers, and seems to have all his pawns intimidated. Who (or what) he is and what his/her/its plans are remain as shadowy as his form. 

The Mage: Obviously a little deranged and covered with old scars and wounds. This reclusive figure dwells in tunnels deep under the city and serves The Master. He seems to be preparing for a ritual, and has also summoned 'The One From The Pit' to serve The Master. He seems to have a deep hatred/fear of the heroes of The Pit. (As to his past, I leave you to surmise the truth.) 

The One From The Pit: Brought back from some unimaginable torment by the mage, the one seems to be hell bent on destroying the Garou. All that is (reliably?) known of the one is that it is (was?) apparently a Garou and causes fear in the mage. However The Master seems certain this one piece shall crush Dominic and the others.  
  


The Fae (Evil Fae...well...they're at least a little annoying) 

Puck: Pooka, trickster, dating advisor, sage, spy, fighter, and lover of all things childish, Puck is a pooka with a mission. (A mission you can hold FuryS Forge responsible for...literally) After interrupting a meeting to discuss the Spiral threat Puck was given the job of going out to keep an eye on them. She is a random and chaotic being, who at times seems childishly useless, and at other moments brilliantly insightful. There is only one thing you can expect when dealing with Puck...the unexpected 

Lord Cruss: A member of the sidhe, the ruling class of the Fae, Lord Cruss has been saddled with the most common of commoners for a partner. With Puck's random (and sometimes not so random) abuse and constant chatter Lord Cruss seems doomed to the loony bin (or prison if he kills her first). Thus far Cruss' only true addition to the mission (despite his best wishes) has been his spyglass (which Puck has been eyeing...) 

Lady Ayloshia, Arienkel: The head of the Fae court and her advisor and friend. They sent Puck and Cruss out. Lady Ayloshia seems to have a soft spot for Puck. But shall the Fae court become involved again? Only time will tell. 

Our Story Thus Far... 

The story of course arguably begins many years ago when the eight great heroes (and yes there is a reason the poem referred to seven) descended into The Pit to stop the resurrection of the dark spirit Tyranthraxus. Great suffering was caused and blood was spilled in the battle, yet the greatest wounds they had received had not been to their bodies, but to their minds and souls.

We begin with a tale of a botched pooka hunt by Stinkface, and the dark dreams of a failed warrior of the Garou. We also learn of the mysterious Master, and of a plot he has that shall bring deeper darkness to the doomed city. However it is decided certain heroes (who thwarted an earlier plot) must be dealt with so the ritual may go as planned.

Dominic takes a young pack into Detroit to ambush and put a stop to an illegal dumping operation by Allied Chemicals. However he soon discovers that it was all a setup, as Black Spirals swarm out of hiding to destroy them. After a brutal fight upon a frozen lake the pack is divided. One is dead, slain by Endelon. Snapback and Leona are separated and flee back to the caern. And Dominic and Charlie (both heavily wounded by Endelon) are forced to flee into the city.

Thankfully Jo (who had earlier been trying to get the ronin and Dominic to join together) was nearby. She quickly aided them in their escape and got them out of immediate danger. Then she was able to contact the ronin and get him to offer them refuge in his apartment. The Master is angered the ambush didn't work, and contacts his fomori servants (Allied) to help find the Garou. In the apartment Dominic recovers and he and the ronin realize Jo arranged their meeting.

The obligatory Jo beating is interrupted when the Spirals are able to track them to the apartment. The ronin and Charlie escape out the window, and Charlie witnesses the ronin's skills, and his internal angst. Dominic stays to fight off the fomori who assault the room, Jo stays with him to make sure he is okay. The two groups both make their way to Jo's chosen meeting spot, Syntax's warehouse.

Dominic realizes once again he was tricked. Syntax also seems displeased, but still heals many of their wounds and helps hide their tracks. Through her powers she reveals that the Spirals have withdrawn, leaving the humans to scour the city. Dominic realizes that would leave their primary office weakened, and decides for a reprisal strike and information gathering run on the reason of the dumping. The ronin refuses to help, and leaves.

Meanwhile. Leona and Snapback return to the caern, only to discover a surprising apathy for going to aide Dominic and Charlie. Lord Moros Argent suspects there is something wrong, and recruits them to accompany him back into Detroit. Endelon, who has decided to keep hunting, finds them and begins to follow.

Dominic, Charlie, and Jo infiltrate the Allied Towers and soon learn that near everything that could go wrong has. Charlie feels inadequate as he barely holds his own, leaving Dominic to battle the lion's share of fomori agents. Jo proves her skills by offering surprisingly useful aid. Syntax sends forth Blue Storm and assaults the tower's computer and spiritual systems.

The ronin regains his sense of duty from a chance encounter. He rushes to help the others, and happens upon Moros' expedition just as Endelon attacks. Endelon flees the combined force of Garou, and then continue on to Syntax's warehouse. Dominic and the others barely manage to escape the death-trap of the towers, and flee into the city. The Master urges Sands to again call in the Spirals, since his own men can't cut it...

Next shall be more thrills, more spills, and whole lot more literallys...literally!

So stayed tuned noble reader. There are still many questions that shall be answered. What is The Master's plot? What is the history between Syntax and Dominic? What is the secret of the ronin? Who was the traitor of the tribes? Why does Dominic call Jo Josephine? All shall be answered as we roll out of the eye, and back into the storm of...The Fall of the Heroes.


	9. Lightning Strikes Shatter the Earth

Yes, I finally update a bit more. I'm actually suffering from a bit of writer's block, but I'm also way down in chapter thirteen, so perhaps I'm not so bad off as I think. (If only I could find the right spot for Cruss and the Fae Court...) Also my new job has seriously cut into my writing time, so I trust you can all bear with me. To FuryS and Tremere (and others who share their views on certain subjects) I apologize in advance for the ending of this chapter. I vow to make the next posting a little more prompt.

Jinroh; Sorry I took so long responding. The answer to your question about the ronin is yes, I do plan to reveal more...but I'll do it later. (look for Ch. 12) Eventually he will tell his story, and you will hear exactly what he believes happened to him in The Pit. Till then, be patient, and don't think even this story will be all the truth of his tragic past (sob). 

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter 8: Lightning Strikes Shatter the Earth 

"Statement: The files have been decoded. Query: What do you wish to know of them?"

"All." Syntax's calm face actually broke into a small smile. Screens flashed and pulsed around her as her hands flew across some keyboards. The sharp clacking of keys filling the room with more then just the quiet hum of computers. Files and pages of writing scrolled by as Syntax eyed them carefully.

'Leona' Throatripper sat upon a metal table nearby. Her ears were pressed against her head, her tail held out stiffly behind her. She still hated this place. The strange flashing lights and hissing machines only filled her with unease. The stranger stood next to her, Leona had to admit his presence was calming. Whatever Lord Argent had said about the man's evil and untrustworthiness, he still seemed a pillar of strength and confidence. His dark eyes carefully watched Syntax, perhaps he too didn't trust the Glass Walker. Leona softly growled in pleasure at that thought.

Lord Argent was sitting quietly on a nearby chair. His gaze alternating between the stranger and Syntax. His face seemed paler then usual, and he appeared rather uncomfortable with the whole arrangement. Leona herself was unsure what to make of him, Argent's actions had been strangely erratic ever since the stranger had appeared. Perhaps it was his unease at having such an untrustworthy companion nearby. Or perhaps it was something else? Leona felt a slight throb in her head as she again started thinking of the plots and hidden truths of the humans. She snorted in annoyance and stopped considering the possibilities.

Snapback remained in crinos, apparently expecting trouble at any moment. He still stood in the far back corner, his eyes narrowed as he eyed the assembly. Leona sighed, knowing how hard it was for the metis to interact with other Garou under even the best circumstances. Now, with this motley assortment... Leona hopped off the table and slowly padded over to him. She whined slightly and wagged her tail. Snapback glanced down at her, he growled quietly under his breath in wolfspeak.

"What is it Throatripper?"

"You seem troubled by new pack," said Leona with a nod of her head to the others. "You should show calm, they will help find good pack."

"I have had many packs," snorted Snapback. "Their loss is almost expected by now." Leona knew that was all too true. Snapback had lost his last three packs in terrible battles with the Black Spirals. Some of the other Garou thought he was cursed, dooming any pack he traveled with to death. But Leona had convinced her pack to take him in, arguing that perhaps Snapback was simply very lucky. After all, he survived. She sometimes worried that the moody metis had started to believe it was his fault that his packs died. It was not a good mindset for a pack member.

"Good pack better then new pack though. Good that pack be together. Get good pack together and go rip up Wyrm-stink. Yes? You will join us again in hunt, yes?" Snapback snorted but nodded his head in agreement. Leona paused then, and batted her nose towards the leather pouch he wore belted around his waist. "What inside small hole," she growled out, "back at fight you try to get into it. Why stop fight?"

"Oh, that?" Snapback's hand fell to rest upon the pouch, covering it mostly from view as he patted it. "Talismans, I have a few. Hoped to use one on Wyrm-stink. Kill him dead." Leona growled in understanding and nodded. That thought hadn't occurred to her, she wasn't good at thinking secretively. If she wanted something dead she just tended to go for the throat...it usually seemed to settle the problem. Leona twisted her head around to eye the shapes of Argent and the stranger. If only that mystery had a throat... There was a sudden sharp chirping, Leona's body snapped to full alert tenseness as she snarled. The Glass Walker simply reached over and picked up the small black talk-box that humans used to speak across far distances.

"Jo? I almost didn't expect you to make it out of there. No, not you specifically, you as a group. How sustains your health?"

"Are they okay," said the stranger as he stepped forward anxiously. Syntax held up her hand to silence him as she listened into the talk-box.

"Both Dominic and Charlie were damaged pretty seriously," she said after a while. "But somehow Jo got through with not even a scratch."

"Not a big surprise somehow," muttered the stranger as he seemed to relax. Syntax's face suddenly went from mildly pleased to dead stillness.

"Hello Dominic," she said coldly. "Yes, I procured the files, I have decrypted them and am putting them through examination now...Yes I have found information about the dumping. It is not random waste of a regular production. They are producing the chemical for the explicit purpose of dumping it." Leona growled in anger at the thought. There was just no justification for what those humans were doing to Gaia. Syntax tapped away at her keyboard as files flashed up. "Yes, all of their production is centered in Factory Thirteen of their complex in South Detroit. They look as if they are dumping the stuff exclusively within certain spots, for example, the lake." Syntax suddenly frowned. "Are you sure that is a logical idea? One would surmise you are weak after the business at the Towers."

"What madness is he discussing now," asked the stranger darkly.

"Here, let me speak to him." Argent rose from his seat and held out his hand for the phone. The stranger sneered at him. Syntax though handed over the phone, apparently glad to evade having to speak to Dominic any longer. "Dominic, this is Moros. I think that in light of...yes, I did. I...I thought that maybe...no! Never was that my intention...I have the other two in the pack and you'll never guess who else...Ah, so you knew...ah...yes, of course." Argent lowered the phone, his features seeming even more worn then usual, he held out the phone to the stranger. "He wishes to talk with you." 

* * *

"Yes?" The urrah's voice was wary and guarded. But at least it no longer dripped with his weak willed whines of despair. Dominic sat on the grime coated floor of the parking garage of a hospital. Jo had found a spot for them on the dark, lowest level. It was hidden from easy view by a large series of unused ambulances in need of repair. Dominic and Charlie sat quietly, each trying to let their natural healing powers patch up their wounds.

"Hear me out urrah. I don't trust you, and you despise me, but we have fallen into the middle of something that is very big. And we shall need to work together if we are to learn of it and survive through it. We need each other." Charlie grinned as he heard the words, a silly smile spreading across his face. Jo didn't look up, but Dominic could well imagine her own smile. He frowned in annoyance.

"Agreed."

"Allied is up to something. They possess fomori, and are quite possibly an arm of Petex." Nearby Charlie looked up curiously at the word. Jo simply nodded her head in agreement. "Also, they're working with the Dancers, the two groups have joined together for something. Whatever this something is it involves the creation of a unique chemical for dumping at specific sites. What does this tell you?"

"That the chemical and the sites each are part of the same puzzle," said the ronin quickly. Dominic grinned, at least his mind was apparently still as sharp as it had once been. Perhaps this working together had not been such a bad idea after all. "You want to investigate, don't you? Are you well enough to do it."

"We will be soon," growled Dominic. "But we will need rest, and there is only so much time in the day. We are close to the factory, we can search it and see what we can learn of the chemical. But you are conveniently close to the lake. Return there, and learn why they choose to dump into it."

"I will see what can be done."

"One last thing," said Dominic quickly. "Why do you think Moros is there?"

"Age...the final closing comes. There need be good songs." The ronin's voice dripped with contempt for the words. Dominic nodded in agreement. Moros wanted one last act of heroism to be remembered by. The old fool filled Dominic with scorn.

"You may of course use him as you see fit. But I would remind you-"

"I need no reminders," snapped the ronin suddenly. "I saw and knew just as much as you. And I know what did and did not happen perhaps even better."

"You still sing the same songs for the same wrongs," sneered Dominic. "You should learn a new tune. However I feel towards Moros is nothing to the contempt I feel for the dual treacheries you committed."

"I accept the guilt of the one, yet stand by the second. It was the right choice, if you had seen his eyes you would know this to be true." Dominic snorted in annoyance.

"Ah yes, I remember. Two black pools which seemed to contain no depth, yet held within them galaxies...your poetry supports you as well now as it did then, urrah!" The ronin's voice dropped to a chill whisper that was barely audible.

"Dominic 'Rends-the-Darkness'. You are so good at splitting it apart and shattering it to the four winds as you blaze through life. But did you ever stop to look behind at exactly what you left in your wake? Do you leave a trail of light...or only your own dark shadow?" The phone suddenly went dead. Dominic snarled in anger as he tossed the small piece of plastic aside.

"Hey man, chill out, you're way too tense." Jo skipped over and picked up the fallen phone. She dusted it off on the sleeve of her jacket as she looked back at him with a smile. "So did you guys start bonding? Did I detect a trace of camaraderie there?"

"Feel lucky that I am wounded and in need rest Josephine. Else I might very well be ripping your throat out." Dominic pulled his coat in around him as he leaned back against the wall. "We need rest in order to heal up. You may have first watch."

"You'll be lucky if I don't send up signal flares to the mutated freaks. At least they might be less of a jerk then you," muttered Jo as she stomped over to sit within view of the entrance to this level of the parking garage. Charlie slumped down, his eyes almost closing immediately. Then he shifted uneasily and peeked one eye open to look at Dominic.

"Is this how it is?"

"Is this how what is," muttered Dominic, his eyes already closed as he rested his chin on his chest.

"Quests," said Charlie quietly. "The songs always make them out to be so much more..."

"Heroic?"

"Well...yeah." Dominic slowly opened his eyes and peered at Charlie from under his dark eyebrows. His hand slipped into his coat and pulled out Bonespur. He set the blade out on the ground in front of him and nodded at it.

"That is a klaive, a weapon that is crafted to slay Garou. Last night I used it to slay many Dancers, they will never again harm a living soul. Is this a good weapon, is it heroic?"

"Yes, of course." Charlie eyed the finely crafted blade with a vague sense of awe. Dominic could tell he had overcome much of his natural fear for the weapon. After fear came curiosity...but idle curiosity was not the emotion for a klaive.

"Would you like to know what I did with that klaive three years ago?"

"Three years?" Charlie's face grew pensive. He mumbled under his breath as he repeated old poems and stories of heroic deeds done by Dominic. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated. Finally he shrugged. "Was it the battle against the Glass Demon?"

"No Charlie 'Black Muzzle' Galliard of the Get of Fenris. Servant of Bull, protector of the Raging Falls and nephew of Marn the One Eyed." The pup's face grew grim as the words of his title reminded him of a whispered lesson in an alley. Dominic nodded down to the knife. "You were curious why I knew Syntax, weren't you?" Charlie nodded nervously. "Three years ago she and her tribe proposed to make that 'jungle' of hers. The council voted that it was an abomination and not to be."

"But they started building it anyway," whispered Charlie softly. He turned to lock eyes with Dominic's quiet stare. His eyes grew suddenly worried. "What happened then."

"Marn decreed them traitors, Garou who had succumbed to The Weaver and no longer served Gaia. Many became fearful as they watched them bind many spirits into their creation. They were making it almost into a caern...a caern to technology. Such a thing had never been...should have never been." The silver light of the klaive glinted in Dominic's dark gaze. The rune of duty glinting on his shadowed face. Charlie trembled, but found he could not turn away. "Fear swept through the tribes, fear at what this could mean. It was decided that they were as dangerous to Gaia as any Dancer could ever be. It was decided they had broken with the Litany and turned against us."

"You are Philodox, judge of the ways...keeper of the Litany..."

"Executioner for those who break its laws," finished Dominic slowly. Charlie spun away then, unable to stand that dark gaze any longer. Dominic spoke softly, his voice a whisper in the darkness. "Is that a good weapon, is it heroic? Know this Charlie 'Black Muzzle' Galliard of the Get of Fenris. Nothing...nothing that you hear in those tales and songs of yours. Nothing speaks of what a hero truly is."

"And what is a hero," gasped Charlie in terror. Almost looking as though he would prefer the question to go unanswered, yet knowing he had to hear the words.

"A hero is a dream." Charlie's face grew pensive. "All that exists are those who do what must be done, when it must be done. Everyone else is just a coward who needs it done for them because they do not wish to face the truth of themselves." Dominic's head sank back into the shadows as he pulled his black coat around himself. "Rest now pup, you shall need your strength soon. We must go be heroes after all."

Soon Dominic was asleep. But Charlie sat there quietly. His eyes locked on the silvered gleam of the klaive until sleep finally, and blissfully, came to him too. 

* * *

"You are going out with the pups?"

The ronin glanced up as Argent slowly approached. The elder Silver Fang's face looked worried and uneasy. The ronin glanced over his shoulder to where Syntax was tending to Leona's and Snapback's wounds. He glanced back to Argent, and noticed the slightly eager gleam in his eye.

"I suppose you wish to go too?"

"I should think I should lead the expedition," said Argent stiffly. He nervously licked his lips, his eyes darting across the dark warehouse to the others. "After all you have certain...complications that would make you unsuitable..."

"Do I?" The ronin leaned in close to Argent, his voice a harsh whisper. "You should know more then anyone I am not as deserving of the blame as other believe. You alone should realize that perhaps I have shouldered more then simply my own burdens."

"No, no you have not." Argent's voice was shaky and uneasy, his face trembled as he shook it negatively. "You were wrong, you were wrong to do what you did. He was skilled enough, it didn't make a difference." The last was spoken in an almost plaintive whine. The ronin leaned back, his face expressionless. He should have known it would be like this.

"Why are you here Moros?"

"Dominic, I was worried-"

"Why?"

"There is a strangeness-"

"Why?" Argent made to answer, and then fell silent. His eyes fell away from the ronin as he looked to the ground. The ronin ticked his jaw upward slightly and then turned away. However, something made him stop and glance over his shoulder. "I am sorry, I am not one to judge..." Argent glanced up with a small, sad smile.

"No old friend, perhaps you are the perfect one to judge." He turned to look at Syntax and sighed. "Perhaps it is not more glory I should seek. Perhaps I should learn to accept for myself what I have too long let others carry." Argent turned back to the ronin. "I am only one voice, but I want you to hear it. Your choice was a difficult one. But I think you chose the best course. And I think it was my fault you had to decide." The ronin nodded and turned sharply away. He motioned for Leona and Snapback to follow as he headed for the door. No one noticed the slight swelling of tears in his eyes. 

* * *

Endelon watched as three of them exited the warehouse. The skilled one and the two pups. His eyes burned painfully in the bright gleam of the newly risen sun. But he would not allow that to deny him this hunt. Argent was still within. All that stood in the way of the prize was whoever else dwelled inside the large warehouse. Endelon's dark blue eyes scanned over it critically, assessing it for his planned assault.

"It could be dangerous, even for one as skilled as you." The soft voice came from behind him, and no one ever sneaked up on him! Endelon spun in a blur of dark robes, leaping to his feet and drawing forth his klaives in a blinding flash of motion. He found himself facing a young woman.

She was beautiful. She wore a bloodstained and tattered sky blue dress, belted tightly around her slim waist by a thin sash. Her eyes were bewitching pools of hazel green, dozens of colors and shapes seemed to dance within their depths. Her hair was a majesty to behold. It was such a pale blonde as to appear as a mane of white silk that hung in rich waves down her back to her waist. She was dainty of build, yet with a suggestion of strength in every inch of her. She smiled at him, her teeth glinting brightly.

"Who are you wench," he hissed around his mouthful of fangs. "And is there a reason I shouldn't slice the heart from your body for my breakfast?"

"You may always try, master assassin." She said the last almost in a mocking tone, yet her face and eyes failed to hint at any amusement. Endelon grinned, his own dark eyes going murderously cold. He sprang forward his klaives snapping through the air as they lashed in from two sides. She leapt upwards and rolled in midair, leaping over him to narrowly evade the attack. As she did there was a sudden flash as she extended to her crinos form, in the same instant kicking out her leg to catch his left cheek. The claws of her foot tore it open as she quickly resumed her homid form and landed lightly behind him. Endelon spun around, his eyes narrowing.

"Who are you? You fight as he does."

"I am an old friend come to repay some old debts," she said lightly. "I would aid you Endelon, if you would have me." He watched her carefully, a stiff morning breeze catching at her torn dress and tossing her long white hair around her. Never before had he been evaded so effectively twice in one hunt. He ran his hand along the gash she had opened. Then felt the other cheek along the healing holes the Garou warrior had inflicted in the alley. He looked at her again, she daintily lifted her foot to inspect the stain of his blood on her toes. He bowed slightly.

"If you wish to join the hunt so be it. We shall see if you can prove your worth to me." He smiled at her, but his eyes remained dark and cold. She smiled back, her eyes glinting as darkly as his own. 

* * *

The snow crunched under Leona's paws as she walked into the park. Her hackles were raised in angered indignity, she felt like ripping apart something.

"You should relax," said the stranger, "you're starting to look a bit too feral."

"Yeah," agreed Snapback with a chuckle. "Down girl, heel." Only the stranger's strong grip on the leash saved Snapback from having his leg torn open. Leona's fangs snapped the air as she pulled against the choking cord wrapped around her neck. Snapback laughed at her as she twisted her head about in frustration. The stranger pulled her back and knelt down by her.

"Relax," he said quietly. The soft tones seeming to carry as much authority as a battle cry. "You ruined your clothes, and you didn't want to wear clothes Syntax created with Weaver magic. There was no way you could walk around naked. So it was either this, or not coming. Is the leash worse then the computer room?" Leona grew sullenly quiet, she forced her hackles to lower, and twitched her tail slightly. The stranger nodded at her as he stood again. Leona felt Snapback's chuckle more then heard it. She tilted her head at an indignant angle as she allowed the leash to guide her forward.

"How are we going to check anything with all these people here," said Snapback with a grumble. There were indeed a score of families scattered about the park and lake. Leona felt the warm heat of the sun beating down on her as a slight chill wind rustled through her fur. She watched the small people scamper and play in the snow. Older people sat and watched, or laid out meals. The lake itself was quiet and innocent looking. Only a series of cracks even suggesting that the ice had been broken.

"We'll wait," said the stranger as he walked up to the river and slowly circled it. "They'll clear out eventually, and then we can act." The stranger stopped and just looked out over the frozen water. Beyond it the evergreens swayed in the breeze. "Why would anyone ever seek to despoil this place?"

"You speak as though they need a reason," grumbled Snapback as he sat down on a nearby bench. "If there is one thing I've learned, it is that humans are truly senseless creatures." The stranger said nothing, he simply continued to watch the snow fall, an odd look on his face as he watched the snowflakes tumble down around him. Leona watched him curiously, wondering why anyone could become so saddened by the fall of snowflakes. Then she twisted alertly at the sound of running footsteps.

"Hey mister! Hey mister, is that your dog?" Leona looked at the two young girls. Each bundled up in thick red coats. The stranger turned to them slowly with a odd smile.

"I would say she's her own dog, for can you ever own another living creature?" The two girls paused at this thought, their faces scrunching up in momentary thought. But then the younger one seemed to overcome the philosophy with the simple argument of there still being a dog in front of her.

"Can we pet her?" Leona's ears dropped against her head at the indignity of it all. The leash was insult enough. She glared up at the stranger, daggers in her eyes. From behind her she heard Snapback chuckle again. The stranger looked down at her, no trace of insulting laughter in his eyes.

"Well? Can they pet you?" Leona glared from the stranger back to the two soft, pink humans. Their eager eyes watched her carefully. The stranger just stood with a quiet expression on his face. Leona growled slightly and nodded her head. "She seems okay with it, just be gentle," he told the girls. They giggled as they rushed forward, their gloved hands brushing over her tawny fur and scratching at her neck.

"Pretty doggy, aren't you a pretty doggy," crooned one of the girls. Leona had to admit that once she got past the instinctual urge to gut the humans and rip out their hearts, that this was an enjoyable experience. She yipped slightly as she pushed against one of the girls, the humans giggling as she did so. 

* * *

"The entire mainframe system crashed. The security room shorted out. The phone system wires fried. Hundreds of sensitive files missing. Security, a customized creation, killed. Twenty-four enhanced guards dead. Nineteen security armor suits destroyed. The walkway blasted apart. One elevator damaged. One elevator cable cut. Multiple elevator doors ruined. Dozens of exterior windows shattered. Countless office walls, ceilings, desks and computers torn apart. Hundreds of rounds of silver ammunition spent. One limousine crushed. Entire North Tower shut down for the work day. Compromising questions from mortal law enforcement..."

Robert Sands sat in his office and listened as Mr. Kay listed off the costs of the Garou attack. His fingers massaged at his throbbing temples as he listened and thought. This would be so costly as to crush the revenue for the entire year! His superiors back at Pentex would doubtless frown at such a grave mistake. Robert Sands had lived for long enough in the boardrooms of that shadowy corporation to know that failure never had an excuse. He'd gotten as high as he had in the organization because he'd never made a mistake. Now, to have it all crushed in the matter of one night. It was too much to bear.

He lifted his hand slightly, Mr. Kay quickly fell silent. What Robert needed now was a victory of such levels that it couldn't help but blot out this gross error. But what would he need to do to equal and surpass the damage done last night? Then it came to him. The plan was quick coming to fruition. But yet they all hunted and wished to destroy Dominic Winford. Would not great glory be his if he could accomplish what even the Black Spiral Dancers had failed to do? He picked up the note the master had given him and slipped it into his pocket.

"Tell me Mr. Kay, exactly what files did they gain access to. What do they know? What might they plan with this knowledge?" His stern aide flipped through some of the papers in his hands. He straightened his gold rimmed glasses as he scanned through them. Robert waited patiently, knowing that Mr. Kay would find what he needed. His personal aide and bodyguard also wasn't in the habit of making mistakes.

"Of most note," said Mr. Kay's deep voice, "is that they gained access to over half the files on Project Infusion. Primarily all information about the sites and production of Chemical G."

"Ah, I bet that sort of thing pissed them off," smirked Robert as he leaned back in his chair. "I bet they don't like it one bit. Now, if I was going to shut down the operation I'd strike at the source, wouldn't you." Mr. Kay nodded, Robert grinned. "Good. Get together a full squad. Battle forms, Assassin forms, even some Sweepers. Equip as you see necessary. I want you to be there to entrap and destroy any Garou who appear."

"Sir, if you are so sure of an attack wouldn't this be the optimal time to contact the Black Spiral Dancers? They would have a even better chance of dealing with any assault as they are better equipped and with more experience in battling Garou."

"I know that Mr. Kay," snarled Robert. Mr. Kay quickly nodded again and backed out of the room. Robert watched the door close and sighed. He had nothing left to lose. He had no boundary he now wouldn't cross. If he didn't destroy Dominic and his allies then there was no tomorrow for Robert Sands. And given a choice between his own life and theirs...Robert didn't even need to pause and consider the options. 

* * *

"You mean to tell me you were beaten by fucking faeries?" Treeshaker and Rockcrusher both nodded at the same time. Pugdog chortled at the thought, his stubby snout splitting open as he laughed. Stinkface snarled as he stood up.

"You were not there, you know nothing of what we went through!"

"Yes," hissed Rockcrusher, "the faerie is a tricky-"

"-bitch who always seems to have a way out," finished Treeshaker. The two fraternal twins sat next to each other in the dark sewer room the pack was using as a lair. Both in the homid, the only way to tell a difference between the two dirty, dark haired figures was by looking for Treeshaker's small breasts. Tick and Quiggis sat across from them. The two newer members of the pack were also in their homid, though they wore ratty coats and torn jeans. Tick remained silent, except for the occasional random giggle. Quiggis was tugging at his jagged black beard.

"But the second time you should have had her. Didn't you surprise her?" Treeshaker and Rockcrusher both nodded at the same time. Pugdog laughed again, his fangs glinting in the dim light of the chamber.

"You mock our battle Pugdog," snarled Stinkface. "Yet it is not us who lost half our pack to a lone Garou. It is not us who were disbanded as a pack for weakness." Pugdog surged to his feet, Stinkface snarled eagerly as he eyed the older warrior. Pugdog's yellowed eyes narrowed.

"Careful pup, you begin to test my nerves," he growled. His voice dark and rough due to an old throat wound suffered years ago in battle. Stinkface forced himself to meet Pugdog's eyes. Refusing to show fear to his challenger. Stinkface knew he should have realized Pugdog wouldn't follow willingly. It was hard to give up being alpha of a pack, especially to a younger and less experienced wolf. But Stinkface was unwilling to just give up control of his own pack simply to soothe Pugdog's pride. "You seek to test me little one," sneered Pugdog, "you think you deserve to be alpha?"

"Enough talk! Challenge for-"

"-control of the pack! Fight to-"

"-death or submission!" Treeshaker and Rockcrusher chuckled as they hissed out the words. Their eyes agleam and eager for blood. Quiggis grunted as he glanced up at his old leader and nodded to the young pup. The two old warriors snarling in mutual agreement. Tick simply twitched and giggled again, but seemed to be acceptable to the idea.

"Very well pup, the pack is mine!" Pugdog stormed forward openly, showing little respect for Stinkface as a passable danger. Stinkface snarled as he charged forward, his claws lashing out in powerful, wide swings. Pugdog raised his arm and accepted a blow along it, however his other hand hissed out and raked his claws across Stinkface's face. Stinkface quickly staggered back, blood dripping into his eyes. His hands wiped at it as he heard Pugdog advance. Reacting instinctively, Stinkface swept out his leg, his clawed foot kicking out blindly. There was a hiss of pain as Stinkface's claws tore open Pugdog's thigh.

"Ooooh, that there-"

"-has gotta hurt," snarled Treeshaker and Rockcrusher in glee.

"You are getting old," snarled Stinkface as he brushed the last of the blood from his eyes. He snarled as he started to advance for the retreating warrior. "I shall rule the pack, both packs!"

"Young fool, you think me beaten so easily?" So saying Pugdog sprang forward, his claws hissing out in a double downward strike. Stinkface barely twisted his head out of the way of the deadly leap. But his shoulder was still hit, flesh torn apart from the brutal blow. His body tossed to the ground.

"Get 'im Pugdog," snarled Quiggis loudly. Stinkface also suspected he heard Tick giggle a bit more happily then usual.

"You are mine!" As Stinkface tried to push himself to his feet a massive weight slam down atop him. Pugdog grabbed Stinkface's right arm and twisted it up behind him painfully. Stinkface knew that if he struggled too much Pugdog would easily snap the limb. "Yield to me, I am master of the pack."

"I lead pack," growled back Stinkface angrily. He suddenly felt Pugdog force himself between his legs. Felt Pugdog's penis press up against his bottom. The older wolf's intentions clear. Claiming of Stinkface would mean forced submission. Obviously Pugdog wished the younger wolf to learn his place. Stinkface's eyes flashed dangerously, he would not yield his pack!

Stinkface pressed his left arm against the hard pavement. He felt Pugdog start to force his member into his rectum. Stinkface bared his fangs as he suddenly pushed up with all his might, twisting his head about and arcing his back. There was a sharp snap and an explosion of pain in his arm as it shattered and splintered from the force of his move. But Stinkface allowed his anger to mask the pain as he twisted his head back and clamped his jaws down. Pugdog gasped in surprise as Stinkface's teeth dug slightly into his neck. 

They froze there. Pugdog almost sodomizing Stinkface. Stinkface with a death grip on Pugdog's throat. The other members of the pack drew silent. Then Pugdog shifted his hips back as he shuffled off Stinkface. Stinkface twisted about and rose slowly, his jaws still digging into the oily fur of Pugdog's neck. Stinkface's yellow eyes gleamed dangerously as he glared at Pugdog. The older wolf looked back darkly, his face twisted in anger. However slowly his ears dropped back to his head. His eyes slowly twisted away to look at the floor. Stinkface quickly released his hold, then smashed Pugdog across the face.

"Who leads the pack?" Stinkface stood snarling over Pugdog. His arm hanging limply at his side, blood leaking from the shoulder wound. Pugdog slowly backed off, keeping his eyes averted as he crawled off to a dark corner.

"Stinkface...Stinkface rules pack," he said loudly. Quiggis growled slightly in disbelief. He stood up, his eyes dark and angry. Before he could even take a move towards Stinkface though both Treeshaker and Rockcrusher leapt into his path. The two small figures hissed loudly, their teeth glinting sharply in the darkness. Quiggis growled slightly, but quickly retreated from the dark pair. Treeshaker turned around, her fanged mouth smiling widely as she pressed herself against him. She rubbed her body up and down as she licked at the blood dripping from his shoulder. Rockcrusher also pressed himself forward. Even Tick rose and rubbed along Stinkface's leg.

"Whippooooorwiiiiill!!!" Stinkface tilted his head back as he howled the war cry in victory. The warbling cry echoed through the pipes, carrying to all the other packs. They would all know who ruled this pack now. "Whip-whip-whip-pooooor-will!!!" 

* * *

Syntax worked at the most encrypted of the files. It had been the most protected. It had been the most hidden. She knew it was the keystone to the whole dumping operation. Whatever Allied had been up to involved this file and the secrets contained therein. If only she could figure out what it meant. But the encryption process seemed to be unbreakable. It was just too random and bizarre. It didn't make any sense how it was supposed to be translated.

She had just exhausted another numerical code, even after trying it in almost every known language. Blue Storm floated silently nearby, his own senses also bent to the task of piercing the secret of the file. Near the back of the room Lord Argent sat quietly, his face downcast due to being told by the ronin to wait here. Syntax was unsure why the ronin had seemed so resolute on not having anything to do with Argent. Though it was perhaps only because she didn't care to have the Silver Fang hanging around her. 

Syntax was forced to admit to herself that it was for several reasons. First, she didn't much care for any company. This past night had seen more visitors to her lair then she had had in the previous year. Second, he had been one of the council members to call for the deaths of her pack and their plans. Syntax could remember him sitting in the council chamber and clucking his tongue as he shook his head. He had appeared a gentle old man...yet had apparently been as bloodthirsty as the rest of them. But mostly she was bothered because he refused to stay silent.

"You're a Theurge then, eh? But you don't use the proper rituals. You do it all through those computers and whatnot."

"The power of the spirits is still within. It is just a good method as painting pictures on the ground and chanting off nonsense words to the night sky." Argent frowned at her icy reply.

"I seem to recall you coming to council once to present the idea for this blasted electronic mess you've created." Syntax didn't look up at him, instead she began working on another code as she replied.

"It is a shrine to the glory of Gaia present in electronics. It is no more inherently evil then a knife or club." Argent snorted slightly. Syntax frowned as she slowly turned to look at him. She brushed her shaggy, dark hair away from her face as she locked gazes with him. She spoke calmly, but her eyes glinted angrily. "But yes, I was at the council. I heard what you thought of us. I was there when you sent in Dominic to butcher us as though we were the spawn of the Wyrm itself. The blood of my packmates stains your hands Silver Fang. Look closely at yourself before you ever dare to judge what we have done."

"There are many regrets in my life young lady," said Argent quietly. "Do you think I went to bed pleased with what we had done to you? Do you think I celebrate that night? Do you think I was happy with your deaths?"

"You ordered them," snapped Syntax sharply. "If you didn't support it then you should not have voted for our murder."

"There is a difference between what you wish done, and what must be done. Perhaps you should also ask yourself what you did. You were told not to build it, couldn't you have guessed the results of breaking the laws of the council. You knew what we would do."

"We...I thought. If you could only have seen it when finished." Syntax's words stumbled slightly as she recalled again the horrors of that night. The Night of Kinslaying as it had been dubbed by the Galliards. "We thought you would understand," she finally finished. Argent shook his head sadly. Syntax almost got the feeling his grief was genuine. But she ignored it, not caring exactly how a murderer felt. "It is a stain of dishonor upon all the council members. Dominic, the murderer, may have been the one to actually dirty his hands, but you are all equally to blame."

"I am sorry for your loss. But you perhaps judge too quickly things you know not about. Whatever I may think of Dominic I know that he is a good man. He only desires the best for the tribes and for Gaia."

"Even if we don't follow the path of Gaia you do, doesn't make our devotion to her cause any less strong." Syntax turned around to regard her screens again as Blue Storm once more failed to decode the files. "Whatever our path, it doesn't justify him killing us."

"Perhaps not, but if you hate him so why aid him?"

"I do not help him! I help my friend, Jo. She asked for my help, not him." Syntax glanced back at Argent. "I doubt Dominic even has friends. Even you and the ronin cannot stand him. All he has are foolish pups that remember his old deeds and still believe him great." Syntax surprised herself by the trace of anger in her voice, she was not one to usually show her feelings. "If he were to fall to the claws of the Wyrm I would shed no tears for him. I would howl no cries of mourning. I would laugh, and spit on his grave."

"Such anger doesn't belong in one so young. Especially when that anger is perhaps directed poorly." Argent sighed as he stood up and walked over to her. Syntax stiffened as she felt his hand gently rest on her shoulder. "I am old, I have little pride left. I think perhaps it is time I was honest with myself and others. I would tell you the true story of what happened to your pack. Would you like to learn of it?"

"No," said Syntax as she turned away from him. "I wish to open this file and learn what Allied has hidden within it." Argent's hand slowly withdrew. He spoke again, and it was with a sigh of regret.

"I'm afraid I can't help you with your technology."

"You may help by being silent and letting me work," snarled Syntax. She quickly started typing again, uneasy with the emotions and feelings Argent had dragged to the surface of her. All she needed to know was he had been one who had ordered her pack's deaths. And Dominic had carried the order out. Their words were nothing to her. She typed quickly, working hard at the damnably difficult code. Then came Argent's quiet mutter.

"That looks like runic symbols of the Dark Litany. The writing patterns of the Black Spiral Dancers." Syntax glanced up at his words.

"What do you mean?"

"Look here." Argent shuffled forward and brushed his hand along the screen. His finger tracing at small wild patterns hidden within the garbled code. Syntax's eyes narrowed slightly. Of course, the code couldn't be translated because the message was hidden within the symbols of the coding itself. She frowned as she looked over at Argent. But despite her own feelings Syntax knew what she was, and was not capable of.

"I know not the runes. Yet you seem to have studied them. Would you be willing to help me search out and translate the symbols?"

"I could," said Argent with a small grin, the lines of his face crinkling around his mouth. "But only if you are willing to perhaps deal with a few chants and painted symbols."

"I could manage," said Syntax coldly, "if you can cope with me electronically sorting it out." Argent grinned wider, and a very small smile traced itself across Syntax's face. They both nodded and went to work. Not for technology. Not for tradition. But for Gaia. 

* * *

Charlie stepped out onto the street, his eyes squinting in the bright gleam of the afternoon sun. His entire body felt sore and full of aches. Movement had returned to his arm, but it was still stiff. He reached up and brushed at the long scar that ran along his cheek and down his jaw. A lingering reminder of the klaive wound from early last night. It was strange that it had been so recent, it felt like he'd grown more in that one night then many did in years. One night where he had learned lessons and faced dangers that no young Garou should have to face.

He looked again at the city as he buttoned up the brown shirt Jo had found for him. He tucked it into the dark slacks belted about his waist. Humans passed in front of him on the sidewalk. Rushing about on their daily routines. Blissfully ignorant of the evil that had stalked their streets. Unaware how fragile their existence really was. Cars rumbled and honked as they filled the streets to overflowing. Steam sprayed out of vents as the crowded masses moved about. Each desiring to be faceless to the next.

"Well, you look better, literally. I think you should try dressing up more often." Charlie turned to see Jo push her way through the crowd towards him. Two large hot-dogs coated in a heaping of toppings clutched in her thin hands. Jo grinned up at him, her dark eyes dancing, as she offered him a hot-dog. "I brought breakfast, lunch, and dinner, literally." Charlie frowned down at the hot-dogs, but the growling hunger of his stomach made him reconsider just turning them down. With a sigh he grabbed one and began to eat. He had been hungrier then he had thought.

"Thanks," he managed around a mouthful. Jo shrugged.

"So how do you like the clothes?" Jo tugged at the shirt like an overindulgent mother as she straightened it. "See, it helps make your shoulders not look so narrow. The color works with your hair too. Try not to rip these up like you do to all your other clothes, I think you look good."

"Thanks, I kind of like them. But how'd you get them anyway? I didn't think you had much cash on you." The thought trailed off. Charlie turned to frown down at Jo. She looked away as she scuffed her foot on the pavement. "Damnit Jo," he growled, "tell me you didn't."

"Okay, I didn't."

"Are we ready?" Any further complaints were blasted away as Dominic came storming up to them, pulling his dark coat around himself. Charlie nodded in quick agreement. Jo smiled and offered him the second hot-dog. Dominic looked down at it darkly, he sniffed his nose and scowled at the smell. Then he turned and started walking. "Let's get moving then."

"Well, good to see you bright eyed and bushy tailed," muttered Jo as she set off after him. "I'm just glad you didn't wake up grumpy, because then you can be so hard to deal with." Charlie smiled slightly as he fell into step next to her. Jo glanced up at him and shrugged as she offered the hot-dog. Charlie quickly grabbed it and started to scarf it down. They passed through the crowds easily, some subconscious sense warning the humans out of Dominic's path. "Well, I'm feeling better today, how about you two?"

"What's gotten you so pleased," muttered Dominic as he peered over his shoulder at her. "Did you find a couple bits of roadkill to snack on?" Charlie felt his stomach gurgle slightly at the thought, he dropped the last bit of the hot-dog into a trash can.

"Maybe, maybe not. But what I'm literally happy about is you." Dominic's face grew suspicious as he watched her. Jo reached up and patted him on the back. "I thought about your actions this morning and hell I said, literally I said it mind. Right in the middle of buying those hot-dogs too. Hell, I said, I think it was really swell how you went and included a certain old friend in the operation. Y'know, putting him in charge of going to the lake. Though I didn't actually say all that literally, just the hell part. But still, it's about time you realized how useful he could be. So, feel better for letting a friendship back into your life?"

Charlie nearly choked in worry as Jo blurted out her thoughts. He saw the narrowing of Dominic's eyes, the slight curling of fingers into fists. Jo only smiled, apparently oblivious to the danger. Or perhaps inviting it. Charlie seriously wondered what it was about her that made her always seem to bring up this obviously painful subject. However, Charlie was forced to admit, it strangely enough did seem to be working. Since their initial meeting the ronin and Dominic had started to work together more and more. He watched Jo carefully as they walked, his opinion of her cunning suddenly raised a couple of notches.

Dominic decided not to continue the argument, and instead returned to a brisk walk. They walked through the streets of the city. Dominic confident that their earlier assault would have thrown Allied's forces into confusion. The trip was quiet, though admittedly that was only because Charlie had started to learn how to tune out most of Jo's random chatter. He had learned a great deal about these two heroes during his time with them.

Charlie felt his eyes trace over to Dominic's back. Of course some of it he found he wished he could forget. He recalled again the story of blood and murder Dominic had spoken of. How the Shadow Lord had butchered all the Glass Walkers of the city save for Syntax. Charlie was still unsure of his feelings on the matter. Could Dominic still be considered a hero? Or had he shown himself to be a base villain at heart. Charlie wasn't sure if he cared whether or not the council of elders had called for the deaths. It still hadn't made them right.

Finally they arrived at the factory complex. He looked over the multitude of large buildings. The entire area taking up a whole city block. Some of the factories still appeared to be in operation, belching forth dark streams of smog into the sky. Others were boarded up and dark. Looking like picked over corpses, their bones bleaching in the sun. Wasted remains of the industry.

It only took Dominic a few moments to cow the gate guards into letting them in with no questions asked. They walked through the dark parking lots. Ahead of them was the squat black structure that had been identified as Factory Thirteen. The square shaped four story structure was dark, its windows blocked up by black tarp. They slowly circled around it till they were out of sight of any of the workers in the other factories. The rear doors were chained shut, a padlock locking them together.

"Do we rip it apart," asked Charlie as he began to call on the beast within.

"Hold on there a second werecrow man," said Jo as she shoved past him. "Maybe you should relax and just try to play this quiet. Play it cool...like Jo. Like we should have played it last time." She frowned pointedly up at Dominic, who simply grinned back at her. She sighed as she reached under her sock cap and pulled out a piece of wire. "Now...just watch and observe the magic."

"When does the magic start," asked Charlie ten minutes later. Jo continued to curse and mutter at the lock, twisting about her hairpin in annoyance. Dominic stood keeping a careful watch out for anyone who might see them. "Jo, you can do this, right?"

"I do it all the darn time...just usually on smaller locks. This one keeps bending the hairpin instead of letting me push down the tumbler." Dominic glanced over at Charlie. He motioned with his eyes at Jo. Charlie nodded. He quickly reached down and grabbed Jo, she yelped in protests as he pulled her away from the door. Dominic meanwhile surged up to his crinos form. He grabbed the chain and easily snapped it apart before reverting back to homid. He smirked at Jo.

"There's my magic. Now, let's see what we can learn." Jo crossed her arms and sulked as she and Charlie followed him into the large building. Charlie looked up as soon as they entered, awed at the design of the place. Massive machinery crowded the building and soared up to nearly the ceiling. Dozens of metal catwalks circled and ran around the huge devices. Chains dangled down in clusters, part of an intricate pulley system that held aloft dozens of large metal buckets. Light filtered through the windows high on the walls and the skylight in the center of the roof. Dust motes danced in the bright beams of sunlight. A strange tang wafted about on the air. A scent not from the oil or metal of the machines.

"Do you smell that," asked Charlie. Dominic nodded and motioned towards a large vat from which a thin billowing of steam leaked.

"Why do I suspect that's why we're here." He turned and started up one of the metal stairways. Charlie followed after him. Jo wandered off into the rows of machinery, her eyes darting about inquisitively. Dominic set off on the first level of catwalks. Charlie followed closely, brushing aside dangling chains as they circled along the walkway. They reached the vat, it was half full of a strange greenish liquid that bubbled and popped. The green glow was cast upward to shine upon their faces. "This seems familiar somehow," muttered Dominic. "I think..."

He was cut off as the main doors to the warehouse suddenly swung open with a metallic roar. They spun about as they watched the figures come streaming in. Men clothed in black body armor, their faces hidden behind their helmet's faceplates. Another squad came bursting through the back door. Many of them taking up defensive positions as they raised their guns. Three men walked in. The two on either side were ghastly pale and wore thick black shades. The one in the middle wore a suit of darkest black. His dark form highlighted only by the golden glint of his glasses. He looked up into the dark factory.

"Surrender now Dominic, and we may allow you to live. Otherwise you may consider this as your final resting place!" 


	10. Billowing Winds of Rain

Greetings. Yes, I promised the update soon, but between FanFiction going down, my new job, and a new WOD chat I am on, my free time has become something of an illusion. On the plus (negative?) side I am thinking of releasing some stories from my chat characters. I usually have issues with chat based stories, but (of course) I think my Sabbat shall be enjoyable. Also, if you ever spot a Corax called Jo on a chat... In any case, let's see if Dominic and the others have what it takes to escape the...

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit

Chapter 9: Billowing Winds of Rain 

He sat in quiet meditative rest and looked out across the frozen lake, allowing himself to relax. Behind him he heard Leona's barking cries as she bid farewell to the last of the children. He almost laughed, he hadn't expected the lupus to so quickly succumb to the playful urgings of the children. Of course, perhaps it was just the excuse for her to get away from the leash. He looked out across the lake and nodded his head, the crowds were dissipating, it was time to act.

He stood up and walked over to where Snapback still sat patiently on the bench. He paused as he glanced around. The park was indeed empty now. Leona was slowly trotting back over to them, a slightly silly grin on her furry face. He pulled off his coat and dropped it next to Snapback. The chill breeze flowed across his bare torso and caused the tuft of red hair on his chest to dance slightly. He quickly pulled off his sneakers and began to unbuckle his belt.

"What are you doing," muttered Snapback as the ronin pulled off his pants.

"I was planning on investigating the lake, how did you suppose we were to do it?" He dropped his boxers on top of the pile. Snapback glanced around uneasily, trying to make sure no one else saw the strange display. Finally the ronin carefully unwound the piece of fur and silk holding his ponytail together and laid it gently upon the pile of clothing. Then he turned to walk over to the lake. Leona quickly bounded up, and eyed him over as he strode out towards the weakened center of the ice. He dropped to one of his knees sharply as he plunged his hand into the ice. It cracked and split apart, opening up for him. He struck twice more to create a large gap in the frozen surface.

He nodded briefly to the other two as he took in a deep breath. He then tilted forward and plunged into the icy water. The chill liquid pressed in coldly around him. Seeping into his skin and numbing his muscles. He pushed downward, his powerful arms sweeping in strong strokes to pull him ever deeper. The dark waters obscured his vision as painful tingles started to dance along his skin. The bottom of the lake slowly came into view, a murky maze of dark rocks and muddy dips. Then he spotted the slight flash of something yellow lurking near a large outcropping of stone. He swept his arms in wide arcs as he pushed himself down into the deeper and colder waters.

He neared the barrels. They rested in a small cluster, there only appearing to be about ten of them. He frowned in suspicion. There should be more barrels, many more. Also, why were the barrels all apparently still firmly sealed? As he pondered the mysteries he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He quickly froze and pulled himself lower against the rock outcropping. He watched the two shapes swimming through the water towards him. They appeared as overlarge and misshapen dogs. Their gray mottled skin littered with barbs and boils. Curved claws decorating their paws that appeared almost like actual hands. Their mouths brimming with rows of sharpened teeth. Their eyes glinting red in the darkness of the lake.

Banes. He felt a shiver pass through him that had little to do with the freezing water around him. Banes were evil spirits, devoted servants of the Wyrm. These two, scraglings to be precise, had obviously chosen to physically manifest in the real world. Such actions were not usually performed by the spirits due to the massive amount of energy it drained from them. But what had made these scraglings choose to enter the real world and swim about in this lake? His answer came almost immediately as the two scraglings grabbed one of the barrels and began swimming off with it. His eyes narrowed as he followed.

They coasted along the bottom of the lake until they reached a large cave opening. The two scraglings maneuvered the barrel through the opening and disappeared from view. He considered returning to the surface for more air and perhaps help, but then dismissed the idea. His living or dying probably wouldn't make a huge difference in the great cosmic cycle. He pumped his arms and entered the cave. It followed a winding course, twisting and turning in dark tunnels full of jagged rocks. His entire body now felt numb, his lungs burned with pain as they searched for air. Still he swam, and still the tunnel went on. Little bands of darkness started to ease in on the edges of his vision. His sight began to blur...

Air! His head burst through the surface and gulped in large lungfuls of the stale air of the cave. He quickly pulled himself out of the large pool he was floating in. The cold hard stone of the cave floor cut into his bare feet. The room was near pitch black, only the dimmest of light filtered into the cavern. As he stood up he saw the four scraglings that were lurking near the back of the cave. Behind them stood a massive pile of yellow barrels that was stacked near to the ceiling. The scraglings hissed as they started to advance, their tongues sloppily running over their teeth.

He shook his head about and wiped his long damp hair away from his face. He walked forward slowly, his face calm and his hands hanging at his sides. The four scraglings sprang as one, their mouths gaping open as they bellowed loudly. He leaped upward and spun around quickly. As he did he lashed out with his foot, the spin adding momentum and strength to the kick. The perfectly executed hurricane kick crushed in the skull of one of the scraglings, and moved him away from the lashing fangs of the others. The dead scragling fell to the ground, dissipating back to the spirit realm. 

He landed behind the remaining banes and quickly spun around, his arms lashing out as he lunged forward. His hands transformed into razor sharp claws as he slammed them hard into two scraglings' backs. The creatures howled in pain as his hands tore deep into them, tearing apart their innards. The two creatures discorporated as he continued forward and slammed hard into the last scragling. With a sharp kick he shattered one of its arms. His left hand swept out and gouged open the shoulder of its other arm. His hand closed about its throat as he slammed it up against a wall.

"I shall only ask you once dark spirit. What is the purpose of this chamber?" The scragling glared back at him and hissed in amusement. His eyes narrowed as he turned to peer behind him. The air bubbled and shifted as many more large gray shapes manifested. The other scraglings growled loudly as they started to advance. Drool dripping from their massive fangs, their red eyes gleaming brightly. He quickly tore apart the throat of the one he was holding and turned to face them. He let his bloody hands drape down to his sides as he jerked his jaw slightly upwards. "Would it matter to you if I said that violence is not the way?"

The scraglings howled as they charged forward. 

* * *

"Surrender now Dominic, and we may allow you to live. Otherwise you may consider this as your final resting place!"

Masked and black uniformed guards rushed into the warehouse. Their guns held deadly and ready in their grasp. Jo peeked out from behind a pile of yellow barrels as she watched them storm in. This was bad, literally bad. It looked like Allied had pulled together every slimeball fomor who knew how to use a gun for this operation. Suddenly she heard the pounding of boots on metal behind her. She spun around as two heavily armed men burst into her hiding place.

They paused to scan over the area. However neither of them bothered to note the large black bird that was now perching upon a set of black tubing above them. Jo ruffled her feathers in annoyance as she watched the men take up battle positions. Their faceless helmets swung back and forth as they scanned the catwalks. Their fingers curled and held ready over their triggers.

"Hell," she muttered. But though she had literally said it none of the guards seemed to care about the soft cawing of a bird. She twisted around to watch the inrush of guards again. A squad was now quickly sprinting up the stairs to the catwalks. Well...it was bad, but not doomed. All they needed to do was figure out a good way to slip out of here. Then they could play it good and quiet and...

"Die Wyrmspawn!" There was a sudden scream and the chatter of gunfire. Jo tensed in surprise as she heard more yells and a bellowing roar. A head came sailing down off the catwalk to bounce down in front of the tall black man who had spoken earlier. Then, as though this wasn't bad enough, Dominic just had to add his own views to the situation. "There's my opinion of surrender! Come slay us if you can!"

"Hell," snapped Jo in frustration.

"Get them. Spread out! All stairways covered. Move and sweep the catwalks!" The dark man motioned out with his arms. Around him the swarms of guards burst into action. Boots rang loudly as they stormed up the narrow stairways. Others remained in position, guarding the front and rear exits carefully. There were more screams and sounds of gunfire. Jo quickly took wing, circling about to get a better view of the situation. She was beginning to wonder how they were going to get out of this one...literally. 

* * *

Charlie grabbed the guard and tore open his chest, his claws easily ripping apart flesh, bone, and armor. He then quickly shoved the creature off the catwalk to plummet to the floor below. Somewhere off to his left he heard Dominic roar loudly. They'd split up, Dominic's last order being for Charlie to head for the roof. Charlie turned to peer up at the skylight set in the roof, wondering what exactly Dominic planned. His ears suddenly twitched at the sound of boots behind him. He spun around with a snarl as two more guards circled into view from behind a row of pipes.

Charlie sprang forward even as they raised their guns. Silver bullets snapped through the air around him. Charlie felt a flare of pain in his side as a few bullets chewed through his flesh. But then he was among them, and he showed them the error of attacking a Chosen Warrior of Gaia. His clawed fist smashed through the faceplate of one, transforming his face into a pile of shattered bone and torn flesh. The second tried to turn and run off. But Charlie's head snapped forward, his jaws closing about the guard's shoulder. Blood filled his mouth as Charlie twisted his head around, tossing the man off the catwalk.

Charlie grunted in glee as he heard the loud splat of the guard hitting. This battleground wasn't too bad. The narrow confines and lack of visibility only aided his fighting style and hampered their use of guns. As Charlie advanced around the corner he spotted another figure on a lower catwalk, one of the strange pale men in thick dark sunglasses. Charlie snarled at the pale bald figure, but the man simply grinned. Suddenly Charlie's senses seemed to swirl. He staggered in shock as the world tilted crazily around him. He felt his muscles go limp, as though they no longer had a will to move. The only thing that didn't shift was his steady gaze, locked with the dark glasses of the pale man.

The figure chuckled to itself. It lifted its hands slightly, and as if by that motion alone lifted up from the ground. Charlie watched in awed dread as the creature slowly floated upward, its gaze still fixed on him. The man slowly lowered himself a few feet from him. Charlie tried to move, tried to force himself to leap forward and slash at the man. But his muscles remained frozen and unresponsive. The pale man grinned, his teeth glinting eerily in the shadows, each of them seeming a sharpened piece of shining metal. The figure walked forward, one of its pale hands reaching into its jacket. Charlie could only watch in numb anger and horror as it pulled out a silver knife.

"Foolish wolf. So powerful in body, so feeble in mind. That is your weakness. That is your death." Then came a loud squawk of anger. The fomor looked up in surprise as the black bird slashed down and pecked and beat at his face. The creature staggered back in shock, the silver knife slashing wildly in the air. In the same instant Charlie felt the strange numbness leave his body, once again his muscles were his to command. As quickly as she had come Jo withdrew. The fomor's pale face was cut in a few places, thick black blood leaking from the wounds. Its sunglasses had been knocked away, revealing that its eyesockets were dark empty holes. The creature turned the empty gaze on Charlie as it hissed in anger.

Charlie scowled in disgust as he quickly stood up, his powerful furred body towering over the fomor. The pale creature raised its arms in a futile attempt to ward off his blow. Charlie's claws smashed through the arm and crushed the creature's head like an egg. Black gore sprayed out of the shattered skull as the bizarre creature collapsed and began to dissolve into bubbling goo. Charlie nodded in thanks to Jo as he turned and started rushing up the next flight of steps.

He reached the top level of the catwalks quickly. He brushed through hanging chains as he ran forward towards the spot under the skylight. He heard a sudden growl nearby. He turned and shoved aside some chains to spot Dominic battling near the top of a second stairway. The bodies of three fomor lay at the feet of the Shadow Lord. Another was locked in a brutal grapple with the raging crinos form, they struggled as Dominic shoved his blade down towards the hissing guard's face. Suddenly the shadows behind Dominic seemed to ripple. Charlie gasped as a tall black man stepped out of the darkness, seeming to just pass through the shadows as though a door. He reached into his coat and pulled out two gleaming pistols.

"Dominic! Behind you!" Charlie shouted as he charged forward. Dominic twisted in surprise even as the figure raised his guns and began to fire. But Dominic quickly heaved up the fomor he was wrestling with and spun around so that the guard's body received most of the bullets. Dominic quickly hurled aside the dead human shield as he leapt for the gunman.

The figure dropped his guns, his eyes narrowing behind his gold rimmed glasses. Dominic slammed into him hard, both toppling back onto the catwalk. As they slammed down the black man just seemed to dissolve into the shadows even as Dominic's claws slashed down hard. The man seemed to rise up out of the darkness right behind Dominic, a silver knife gripped in his hand. Charlie roared as he leapt forward, springing from his catwalk across the gap to smash into the dark figure. The man reacted quickly and with amazing strength. Elbowing Charlie in the jaw, cracking the bone, even as he slashed his knife across Charlie's gut.

Charlie staggered back and felt himself press against the railing of the walkway. The shadow man raised his knife to strike again, but the blow was intercepted by the flashing blade of Bonespur. Dominic roared as his claws slashed out and ripped open the man's belly. Charlie staggered back as Dominic's blow tossed the black man through the air to smash into a large row of pipes. Charlie swallowed nervously as he eyed the injury Dominic had inflicted. The man's clothes were torn apart and lay in jagged strips over his belly. However no blood or even flesh was apparent, it was as though the suit was totally empty.

The black man regained his feet instantly, as though the gaping hole in his belly wasn't a concern. He reached out and easily twisted a part of the railing off the edge of the walkway. Holding his improvised staff he again advanced on Dominic. Charlie quickly scrambled to his own feet and stood next to Dominic, eyeing the strange creature warily.

"How do we beat it?" Charlie slurred around his broken jaw as he glanced over at Dominic questioningly, but the Shadow Lord only shrugged as he growled. Charlie swallowed nervously as the shadow man charged forward. Dominic easily ducked under the wide swing of the pole, and came up quickly as he planted his klaive into the creature's chest. The black man quickly clubbed his forearm across Dominic's face, tossing his head to the side. Charlie moved in, but suddenly recoiled as the man again seemed to sink away into nothingness. Leaving Dominic growling angrily at the shadows on the floor.

Even as he stepped back Charlie was suddenly slammed forward by the sharp crack of a metal pole across his back. He collapsed to the ground and looked up at the sneering figure of the black man above him holding aloft the metal bar. There was a sudden roar of sound as Dominic sprang forward and clapped his hands together. Charlie howled in pain as the shockwave hit him, the loud blast roaring over his senses. But the shadowy figure too stumbled slightly, a look of mild shock on his face. In that instant Dominic grabbed hold of him and quickly hurled him over the edge of the catwalk.

"Get up, the others are coming," snarled Dominic, sounding like he was speaking from miles away. Charlie groaned as Dominic pulled him back to his feet. Bullets started to rattle and spark off the catwalk as they made their way back towards the skylight. Then the bullets suddenly ceased to be fired. Charlie blinked in confusion. There was a sudden loud clang from below them. Clawed hands clamped onto the edges of the walkway as two figures started to pull themselves up onto the walkway. Both Charlie and Dominic quickly twisted towards one, planning on just knocking them off. 

The fomori's black uniforms shredded as multiple tentacles burst forth from their chests. The ropy appendages wrapped tightly around the Garou's ankles, trapping them in place as the creatures started to claw madly at them. Charlie hissed in pain as the claws tore at him. The tentacles preventing him from moving well to avoid the strikes. The creatures also supported their weight on the muscular extremities, freeing their hands for the assault. 

Dominic's hand snapped out, clamping around the throat of the creature attacking him and pulling it up. It hissed in anger as it clawed at his arm, holding tight to prevent him from tearing out its throat. Dominic instead ducked slightly as he swept Bonespur in a brutal arc that slashed apart the tentacles holding him in place. The creature wailed in pain as the bloody stumps lashed about helplessly. Dominic quickly turned and elbowed Charlie aside, knocking the younger wolf off his feet. In the same instant he slashed apart the tentacles around Charlie's legs and shoved the creature in his grip hard into the face of the second.

Both tentacled fomor howled in shock as they were tossed off the catwalk. They spiraled down into the factory and landed with a splash inside the large vat of chemicals that the factory was producing. Their wails grew louder and more disturbing as they lashed about in the green liquid. Charlie gagged as he watched their bodies twist and mutate. Their chests popping apart as dozens of extra tentacles started to sprout. Their hands splitting open as more clawed fingers tore through their flesh.

"Good god, what is that stuff," he gasped in horror, "I've never seen anything like it." 

"I have." 

He glanced up at Dominic, whose expression was dark as he eyed the glowing green sludge below them. But the Shadow Lord offered no further explanation, instead he grabbed up Charlie and shoved him along. The bullets again started to rain up around them. Charlie felt a stab of pain in his leg as a round ricocheted off a pipe and tore into his thigh. Below them the fomori shouted angrily as they started to charge up the stairways. They both rushed up under the skylight, looking up hopefully at the beams of light that streamed through the glass.

Then there was a low roar as a black shape swept over the escape route. The racket of the chopper seeming to drown out all sound and hope they had. Charlie sagged slightly, the sight of the deadly hunter's return dashing any belief in their survival. Dominic however continued forward with a howl and leapt upwards, shattering through the glass of the skylight as he burst out onto the roof. Then came the dull bellow of the helicopter's machine gun. 

* * *

The dark insect-like hunter had returned. It buzzed in glee as it prepared to destroy them. Jo cursed at their bad luck. Even as she twisted about to look for another escape route she heard a howl and a shattering of glass. She turned back in time to see Dominic leap through the skylight. Jo cursed loudly as she spun in the air and flapped quickly after him through the shattered hole in the glass, wondering what the hell Dominic was thinking.

As she sailed through the hole there was a chattering howl as the helicopter seemed to grow angry at Dominic's impudence. He turned and dove for cover as huge strips of the roof were blasted apart by the machine gun. Jo banked sharply and followed after him as he rolled behind a large row of cement smokestacks. She flapped above him as the hunter angrily began to circle around to destroy him. Dominic looked up at her and pointed towards the chopper.

"Distract gunner. Now!"

Distract gunner? Jo turned and soared towards the chopper. It didn't particularly occur to her that angering someone operating a massive gun was a brilliant plan. The things she did for friendship... She quickly arced down towards the open side of the helicopter where she could see the figure sitting behind the huge gun. Huge? Make that flipping monstrous! Jo gritted her beak as she dove into the gunners face and flapped about while cawing loudly. He cursed in surprise as he batted at her. One of his wild swings catching her hard and sending her spinning out the hatchway. Jo cawed in fear as she desperately flapped her wings, only barely regaining control in time to dodge the tail rotor of the chopper.

However in that brief instant Dominic had moved. He grunted as he smashed hard into the smallest of the smokestacks. The ten foot high pillar of cement toppled over, the top few feet shattering and spraying out across the roof. Dominic quickly bent down and grabbed the remaining length of cement. With a loud grunt he lifted it over his head like a javelin and turned towards the circling black chopper. He howled as he hurled his makeshift spear through the air.

Jo laughed as she watched it arc in. Like a needle to pin up a bug in a collection. The pilot screamed in terror as he saw the pipe of cement arc in towards him. He jerked his arm back and tried to pull up and away. However it was far too late. The cement pole crashed through the windshield. Crushing the pilot in a spray of red before tearing through the back of the cockpit. Smoke billowed from the dark hunter as it made a few lazy turns in the air and then tilted down to smash into the roof.

Jo flapped away quickly as it landed with a deafening crunch. There was then a desperate wail of pain from it as it was torn apart by a large explosion. A ball of fire billowed into the air, washing the rooftop in a bright orange flare. The smoke surged into the sky. The blazing orange flames mixing with the deep reddish glow of the setting sun. The long trail of smoke reaching up into the air appeared like the charred remains of a log amidst the flaming amber fire of the sky.

Charlie burst up onto the roof, his eyes wide as he looked at the crushed remains of the chopper. Dominic growled loudly as he turned and sprinted towards the edge of the roof. He launched himself over the edge, his powerful muscles hurtling him more then thirty feet through the air as he fell towards the parking lot. Charlie snarled as he turned and rushed after him. Jo simply banked in the wind and glided through the air down towards Dominic. As soon as he had landed Dominic had smashed apart the windshield of one of the cars parked in the lot. He wrenched off the rearview mirror and turned it towards them.

"Quick, into the Penumbra where they cannot follow or track us." 

* * *

Mr. Kay opened up his black umbrella and held it over himself before stepping outside of the warehouse. He squinted slightly in the bright glare of the setting sun as he turned to watch the men who were trailing back in from the parking lot. Walking at their head came the last Sweeper, the pale faced fomor scowled as he walked over to Mr. Kay.

"They slipped into the spirit world. We have no way of following them or of knowing where they go." The Sweeper hissed the words angrily. Mr. Kay knew that Sweepers hated to be bested at anything, their mental powers giving them an inflated sense of ego. Mr. Kay frowned as he glanced up at the spiraling column of smoke that rose into the sky from the roof of the factory. In the distance he could hear the approaching wail of sirens. The Sweeper snarled as the other fomori all circled about them. Mr. Kay pulled out his cell phone and dialed quickly.

"This is Sands," came the crisp reply from the other end.

"Mr. Sands, the Garou have just escaped from the factory. We assaulted them fully but lost a dozen or so combat fomori, one Sweeper, and the chopper. They then slipped off into the spirit world, we can't pursue them." There was a long pause, Mr. Kay knew that Robert was trying to calm himself down.

"We don't need this. The operation is coming to a close and we can't let them stop us."

"I know sir," said Mr. Kay in his deep voice, "but I am low on men and equipment. We have no idea how to find them again. And I'm not sure that if we did we could kill them."

"Fine. Report back to the office at once. Leave the Sweeper and some of the men to deal with any police investigation." Mr. Kay nodded as he issued the orders. "Mr. Kay?" Robert's voice was full of anger and frustration, yet tinged with despair. Mr. Kay frowned, unused to hearing his superior speak so.

"Yes sir."

"I think it about time we brought in the specialists." 

* * *

Leona stood on the ice and slowly circled around the hole that had been shattered through it. The chill ice bit painfully at the delicate pads of her paws. Her nose caught the tinge of fire and danger on the wind. She peered up again at the column of smoke that arced into the sky. She was tense and nervous. The stranger had been down in the lake longer then anyone should have been able to hold their breath. Yet should she follow? Wait longer? Contact Argent and Syntax? Leona whined slightly as she looked around again.

Snapback still sat on the park bench calmly. His hand was pressed up over his mouth as he carefully watched her. Leona's tail flicked about at the sight. It looked like he was eating something! How the hell could he be quietly munching on something while so many questions remained a mystery. She growled as she again circled about the hole. Then the water shifted as a few bubbles floated up and burst the surface. Leona dropped back a few steps and bared her fangs. Back on the bench Snapback quickly shoved whatever he had been pressing to his mouth back into his pouch as he stood up. Obviously wondering why she was tense.

A hand suddenly burst out of the icy hole. It gripped onto the edge as it pulled the stranger into view. His long rust colored hair was plastered damply against his body. His skin had a slight bluish tinge to it as he pulled himself from the water and shivered. Leona yipped eagerly as she turned towards Snapback. He was already starting across the ice, the stranger's clothes bundled under his arm. 

The stranger shook his head about, tossing his soggy hair away from his face. Leona took a few moments to admire his body as he sat there naked on the ice. It had been strange, but ever since her first Change she had found human forms as attractive as those of wolves. She eyed the dozens of pale scars, now tinged blue, that crisscrossed his tan body. She wondered how he had gotten them all. What battles he had fought. She again wondered why Argent had been so quick to warn them away from the stranger.

"What did you discover," asked Snapback as he approached and handed over the clothing.

"Something inexplicable," said the stranger as he started to pull on his clothing despite his damp state. "There were banes down there, many banes." Leona's hackles rose slightly at the mention of the dark spirits. "They were collecting up the barrels and placing them within a cavern at the bottom of the lake."

"Why would they do that," asked Snapback slowly, "wouldn't it be worse to just let them pollute the lake?" The stranger nodded as he stood and tied back his hair with the piece of fur and silk.

"It does seem strange. I asked, but the creatures had been told nothing. It is a small gambit on the chessboard that we see here. But we see only the movement of the pawns, and are left to wonder at the ultimate placement of the king." Both Leona and Snapback turned to look at each other in confusion at the strange phrase. The stranger just sighed. "Oh Gaia preserve," he ticked his jaw slightly upward. "It's simple. All we know is this piece of the puzzle. We understand it completely. But we need more pieces if we are to see the picture they form." Leona and Snapback looked back at each other again.

"Huh," said Snapback finally. Leona whined and also looked up curiously at the stranger. He sighed again.

"I don't know what it means, we need to talk to the others to see what they've learned first."

"Oh," said Snapback with a nod. The stranger muttered as he turned and started walking back towards Syntax's lair. Leona watched him go and glanced up at Snapback who shook his head slowly. "Why couldn't he have just said so in the first place?" Leona was forced to nod in agreement. Human habits of using analogies to say one thing while meaning another had ever confused her. Humans. She sighed, Gaia preserve indeed. 

* * *

Gorefist growled in pleasure as Kendar slammed her up against the filthy cement wall. He had yet again regained his urge, one of the benefits of the quickly recovering nature of the Garou. Gorefist hissed in mock anger as he forced himself on her. Around them her pack pressed in close, eager to watch, waiting for a chance to join in again. Kendar's massive crinos form towered over Gorefist despite her own eight foot frame. She snarled loudly, her fangs glinting at him as her long black ears fell back against her sloped brow. Kendar grunted in amusement as he clamped his hands around her throat. Gorefist struggled against his grasp, her fangs snapping and biting the air helplessly.

He bore her down to the ground. He roared in her face to quiet her struggles as he began to force her legs apart. One of her packmates slid up behind them. His thin hands roaming over Kendar's back. Another dropped down, his tongue lapping around the first's thighs. The other pack members circled in closer, their excitement evident. All of them, male and female, eager to please and be pleased by the powerful alpha. Kendar batted Gorefist about the head till she ceased moving. He snarled as he prepared to take her. Then there came a shout from outside. Kendar glanced up in annoyance as Stinkface pushed his way into the sewage room.

"Lord," hissed Stinkface nervously as he eyed the angry eyes of Gorefist and her pack. "The human worms. They say they need to speak with us. They wait even now for an audience."

"Let Endelon do it," snarled Kendar in annoyance. Stinkface hung his head slightly, not even glancing in Kendar's direction.

"I tried Lord. But Master Endelon has left the temporary hive, he is nowhere to be found."

"Why does that not surprise me," sighed Kendar with a shake of his head. He glanced back at Gorefist and growled slightly as he shoved her away. He stood up and reverted to his homid form. His heavy trench coat and fedora seeming to appear out of nowhere around him. He chuckled, "I guess with Endelon gone I am in full command now. Have the monkeys brought here." Stinkface nodded and quickly retreated from the room. Gorefist hissed in displeasure as she returned to her own homid form. She was a young and attractive Mexican woman with long and ragged black hair. She dressed in a torn leather jacket and jeans, she wore no shirt and allowed the jacket to hang open and reveal her ample breasts. The only detracting point from her allure was the torn series of scars across the left side of her delicate and dusky face.

"You disappoint me Lord," she purred as she walked over and ran her hand along his back. "I had hoped that my attentions would have held your focus more fully." Her one good eye glinted mischievously, her second eye was a dead and milky orb. Brutal reddish gashes surrounded it and traced down her cheek. "I hope I am not so scorned by you?" Kendar glanced over at her and batted her arm off him.

"If I choose to take pleasure from you it is by my choice. And if I ignore you that too is my choice." He turned towards her and bared his sharp teeth. "Do you wish to question my whims?" He was well aware of the fates that had befallen many of her other lovers. Bodies found torn open in the darkest corners of The Hive. It had been one of the reasons he had become so enamored by her, her fire and confidence. But she was still just a pack leader, and thus disposable and replaceable. Gorefist grinned and licked her teeth at him as she backed off slightly.

"Merely making sure you understood what you were missing." 

Kendar frowned slightly at that comment, well aware of how eagerly he wished to finish taking her here and now. Then he heard the noise of approaching feet. The other pack members slipped back into shadows or smaller access tunnels. Gorefist placed her hands on her hips and jutted out her chest, she also made sure to shift her head slightly. She had a habit of waiting to reveal her old facial wounds, preferring to let others think of her face as normal and beautiful for a while. Kendar watched as the three men walked down the tunnel towards him. They wore gray and black business suits, and stepped gingerly through the filth of the pipes. Their fancy black shoes making noisy ringing sounds as they ducked and entered the room.

"My greetings to you Endelon, master assassin of The Hive. Stalker in the shadows, the silent death." The monkey in the lead bowed stiffly at the waist to Kendar. The young man then smiled and looked up to meet Kendar's gaze evenly. His bright blue eyes and sandy blonde hair framing a bright and handsome face. "My name is Robert Sands, executive vice-president of Allied Chemicals. I am here to request your aid in a serious matter for my...tribe, if you will."

"Monkeys don't have tribes," snarled Kendar, "and I'm not Endelon. You may call me Kendar, The Head-Collector." The other Black Spiral Dancers in the room shifted slightly at the words. A deep and understanding fear within them about what the title and name meant. Robert's easy smile didn't shift as he nodded again slightly.

"Of course I will Kendar. Sorry for the mistake, I do understand that leadership can be a fleeting thing in your tribe. No offense meant." Sands smiled as he motioned to one of his aides. The young, bald, black man quickly handed him a collection of papers. Kendar noted how the third monkey tried to peer discretely at Gorefist's breasts. Robert Sands smiled and kept his gaze on Kendar as he held up the papers. "Now, as I'm sure you're aware we and you work for the same master." Kendar's eye narrowed slightly at the easy remark, as though these humans could ever understand the majesty of the Wyrm or the true nature of Tyranthraxus. "As a result we are currently working together as allies to the cause. Since you are our allies I thought you would be eager to perform a few small favors for me."

"What sort of favors," asked Kendar darkly. Robert kept his easy smile as he handed the papers he held to Kendar. Kendar looked down at them, an address and a map with a section circled in red. He looked back at Sands, the monkey's eyes still comfortably meeting his own baleful glare. "What's this?"

"That my friend is a map of the city," Robert grinned as he pointed to one section. "Here is where we are, these dark lines are roads." Out of the corner of his eye Kendar saw Gorefist frown. She too was annoyed by the monkey's condescension, it was as though the fool thought himself superior to the Dancers. "This red dot is the location of that address, the circled section is an area near our primary factory operation."

"And why do I give a shit," snarled Kendar. Robert chuckled as he placed his hands in his pockets and shrugged slightly.

"Well, we thought you might want to kill some Garou. That is what you're supposed to do isn't it? The circled section is the area where the werewolves who attacked our offices and factories disappeared within. We need help in tracking and getting rid of them. That address is the location of someone who is helping them, we suspect it to be someone skilled in technology magic." Kendar nodded slowly.

"Fine, we shall begin again the hunt. We shall destroy them for the glory of the Wyrm." Around him the other Dancers hissed in glee. Their fangs gleaming as they spoke in sibilant whispers of the hunt. A soft warbling of the cry of the whippoorwill cascading about the tunnels. The two aides looked around nervously at the eerie sound. Robert Sands just nodded and smirked.

"Excellent. A pleasure working with you Mr. Kendar. I'll leave you my associate, Mr. Barnes. He'll help you in your dealings with any of my operatives. He'll also work to help you contact me if the need arises. Come Mr. Kay." He nodded again as he turned and headed back down the tunnel. The tall black man turned to follow. The last figure, a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair smiled slightly at Kendar. Kendar tilted his head back, a long and bellowing roar echoing forth from his mouth to carry through the dark and winding pipes. It was the howl of the hunt. Soon they would feast upon the flesh of their prey. 

* * *

"I like feasting on chocolates, don't you? I mean, think about it. Chocolate has got to be one of the single greatest inventions ever conceived. Man, I wish I'd been there. I bet they just ate all sorts of chocolate that day. And how about joy and dreams? Do you have any idea how many joyful dreams and smiles that chocolate must have created over the years? Heck, I dream about chocolate, and I'm a faerie who inspires dreams! Do you ever dream about chocolate? I bet if you did you wouldn't seem so tense all the time."

Cruss lay on his belly and peered over the edge of the rooftop as Puck did cartwheels behind him. He slowly reached up with one gloved hand and massaged his temple slowly with two fingers. He forced himself to stop grinding his teeth together as he slowly lowered his head back to his spyglass. He peered through the eyepiece and carefully scanned over the sewer covers again. The Spirals had gone down there ages ago, and had spent the whole day down there. Now night approached again, he suspected they would soon swarm forth once more.

"Do you know that scientists claim there are happy chemicals in chocolate? Happy chemicals! Of course I'm not sure what would make a chemical unhappy. It's not like chemicals really seem to have emotions. They just sit there and...well...I guess they do whatever it is chemicals do. Do you think that any scientists have ever studied what it is chemicals do in their spare time? I'm sure they don't just sit around and do chemicalizing all day. What would you do for fun if you were a chemical? Try to play a game to be happy I suppose. Of course that's the whole point of the happy chocolate chemicals. I'd be happy too if I was a little chemical on a huge piece of chocolate!"

He slowly twisted his head to the side, trying to stretch out his neck and ease the pain in his shoulders. Of course he suspected much of the tension in his back wasn't caused by his uncomfortable position. He quietly returned to watching through the spyglass. She wanted him to talk, he knew that was her devilish little plot. But if he didn't speak she couldn't trick him into revealing more private information about himself. Of course the exhaustion was getting to him, making it hard to think straight. He'd suggested they sleep in shifts. But Puck never seemed to need sleep, and her prattle prevented him from resting either.

"How big do you think they can make chocolate? If I made chocolate I'd make it big! Just look at those tiny little bits you get in a chocolate box. Why, I need to eat at least ten before I even feel the sugar buzz. Why does sugar buzz you? It's not like it feels like a buzz. Who the heck was sitting around one day and said, wow, sugar gives me a buzz. And then everyone agreed with him? If I'd been there I would have said, no, sugar doesn't give me a buzz. It gives me a happy feeling of energy. See, there goes chocolate making people happy again. But the whole buzz thing is just confusing. Now alcohol, that'll give you a buzz all right."

Cruss smirked slightly even as he felt his annoyance levels rise. She rushed over to sit next to him. She clutched at her sparkle covered shoes as she rocked back and forth next to him. Oh yes, she just wanted to trick him again. But he was too smart for that. Maybe he'd never speak again, that would show her! He stifled the short giggle that almost escaped his lips. He shook his head, he didn't seem to be thinking straight anymore. He pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. Over seventeen hours, he had spent over seventeen straight hours with Puck. He slowly tucked the clock away. Best not to even think about it.

"I remember this one party I went to at Mr. Trodfoot's house. You know Mr. Trodfoot right? He works at court as the chef. The little chubby boggin with the buck teeth and frizzy white hair. I'm surprised more sidhe don't seem to know him. He does cook your food after all. Why, if somebody cooked my food I'd be thankful. Even if he gets upset when you ask for fifths on dessert. Can I help it if he had good chocolate? Shouldn't he be happy I liked his food so much? Well anyway, I was at the party and all the boggins seemed to like the booze, and their pipes. Boggins are big on pipes. That's why I got my bubble pipe. Sure you can't smoke real tobacco in it, but I rarely have a chance at smoking real tobacco anyway. Though I do have some now. Do you like tobacco? You look like maybe a relaxing smoke would help your nerves."

He heard some jingling and glanced up. Puck had pulled out a blue pouch with a silver tree emblazoned on it. She happily dug through it, idly tossing gold coins over her shoulder as she searched for the tobacco. Cruss's eyes narrowed as he slowly set aside his spyglass. He pushed himself lightly back to his feet and looked over at her. Puck glanced up and smiled brightly at him as she produced a small pouch of tobacco.

"So...Puck...is that your tobacco?" He asked with a slight edge of coldness to his tone. Puck smiled and nodded happily as she also produced a silvered pipe emblazoned with a 'J' and a 'C' from within the pouch. She eyed the pipe curiously as she twisted it about. Cruss grinned at her and lifted his eyebrows slightly. "Don't exactly know how to use a pipe, do you?"

"Weeeeell, I've seen it done," murmured Puck as she started to open the tobacco pouch. "How hard can it be?"

"That's an interesting pouch," said Cruss as he leaned in towards her. He pointed slightly at the silver tree emblem on the front. "I wasn't aware of your connection with the House of Liam."

"Oh really?" Puck paused and glanced at the symbol on the bag with a shrug. "Sure, me and Liam are like this," she wrapped two of her fingers together tightly. "I do all sorts of stuff with House Liam. I'm surprised you don't know that, aren't you a member?"

"Yes," said Cruss softly as he leaned in closer, his face coming within inches of hers. His blazing silver eyes locking with the multi-colored swirl of her own. "Which especially amazes me, since I know all the members of our House in this city. And because I happen to have lost my pouch sometime last night after council. Don't you recall me asking you if you'd seen it?"

"Oh sure, I remember that." Cruss' eyes narrowed more as his lips split into an angry snarl.

"And I don't suppose you happen to know how my pipe, money, and personal possessions got into 'your' pouch?" He glared at her, his face flushed red. His muscles twitching in barely controlled anger and the frustration of the whole day and night spent with her. Puck slowly licked her lips and glanced down quizzically at the pipe. She then looked back up at him and shrugged.

"That's a real mystery..." Cruss's hands snapped up and wrapped around Puck's throat. The pooka squealed in surprise and clutched at his tight grasp. He dragged her to her feet and looked at her surprised eyes.

"I'm going to kill you," said Cruss with a grin and a nod as he shook her in his grip. Puck's eyes grew wide as she hopped back and forth on her feet. Her hand dug into her pocket and produced a handful of tiddlywinks.

"Ayloshia said...the table...work together...widdly...tiddlywinks," gasped Puck as Cruss snarled at the tiddlywinks and shoved her down to the ground.

"I just don't care," hissed Cruss, "I hate tiddlywinks, I can't stand them anymore!" Her hands batted at his face as he snarled at her. "I'm ending the pain!"

"Why is that...do you need...another...chocolate?"

"You'll be dead, and I'll be happy!" 

"Wait," Puck twisted her head to glance over the roof and began struggling more. The tiddlywinks clattered around them. Each tiny metallic piece clinking on the roof only serving to fill Cruss with more anger. Puck suddenly started waving in his face, her fingers dancing about wildly. Her eyes bulged as she started to frantically point. Cruss slowly turned to follow her gaze, and suddenly froze. Many dark shapes were pouring out of the sewers, dark clothed men and mongrel dogs. The Spirals were on the move again. Cruss glanced back down at Puck who was trying to smile and nod while still being choked. Cruss slowly released his grip on her skinny throat. He lifted his hands away from her.

"Sorry," he gasped, staring in shock down at his trembling hands.

"Think nothing of it," said Puck as she started gathering her tiddlywinks. "If I knew it meant that much to you I'd have given you the pouch." Cruss's hand snapped out and grabbed his pouch off the rooftop. He held it up angrily in front of her.

"This is my pouch," he snarled.

"Sure, I just gave it to you as a gift didn't I? No need to get so grabby and crabby about it." Cruss turned and started across the rooftops after the Spirals. Puck watched him go and shook her head. "He's just waaaay too tense," she muttered. "I wonder why?" As she turned to go she paused and then grinned. She reached out and grabbed the spyglass from where Cruss had left it. She giggled as she dropped it into her pocket and scampered after him. 

* * *

"You can tell me if you'd like." 

Syntax said the words quietly. Around her the computers hummed as they worked at translating the runes. Argent sat next to her, slowly typing in the meanings for more and more of the symbols. He glanced over at her slowly, one of his bushy white eyebrows lifting.

"Are you sure you'd not be too bored by it all? That you'd not rather we just work in silence?" Syntax brushed at her wild black hair and nodded.

"It would...I wish...please tell me about Dominic's involvement with the death of my pack." Argent smiled slightly. Syntax turned away to type in a few more quick commands. Still unsure why she felt so curious to hear about why the damned Shadow Lord had murdered her pack.

"Very well...it was a mistake. As are all such actions. There was a time I thought the whole mess could just be forgotten. But...the truth has a way of not letting anyone forget it." Argent let out a ragged breath as he turned towards her. "You should not hold Dominic in such disdain. He is not your foe."

"He is slayer of my pack," snarled Syntax, "he is a dog who deserves to die alone and forgotten. He is not the hero the songs and stories make him out to be. He voted with the council to destroy us, and then carried out their edict of death!"

"No child, no. That is not how it was," sighed Argent sadly. "You see...Dominic was the only member on the entire council to vote not to execute your pack." Syntax looked up in surprise at the words, her face confused. "He counseled patience and observation. But the rest of us would have none of it. Marn voted for destruction and the rest of us supported him." Argent closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "But we were too cowardly to carry out our own dictates. We had not the conviction to match our ideals. But Dominic...he took up his klaive and said that what the council had decreed was law. He went and slew you all, though he did not wish it."

"Why would he," asked Syntax softly, "it seems a path to madness."

"All due to his honor," said Argent darkly. "It is his greatest strength and most damned weakness. Dominic's honor doesn't bend yet is too strong to break. Thus he is forced to bear upon it a great burden of sins that would crush a lesser man. I am certain there is not a minute that goes by that he doesn't regret what happened. Yet he never admits that he opposed it. He stays true to the council and accepts our guilt for his own." 

Syntax lowered her head slightly at the words. It was a terrible story. She wasn't sure if it made her forgive him, or despise Dominic all the more. Argent seemed to understand her confused anger. He shook his head and leaned back, leaving her to her thoughts.

"Why do you tell me this?" Syntax slowly turned to look at him, her calm gray eyes filled with confusion. She didn't like this revelation. She had spent so much time hating Dominic that it was almost part of who she was. The concept that he might not have wanted to do it didn't please her at all. The idea that he might have done it knowing that it was wrong, she decided it made him even more despicable. "What possible gain do you hope to make by revealing your own weakness in this matter?"

"I am old," said Argent with a sad smile. "I am not as spry and able as I once was. My chances for dying honorably in a fight with the Wyrm...somehow I don't think it would happen." He sighed again, as though the possibility of dying not in combat, but of old age, filled him with a deep fear. "I have been given many honors over the years, but I have made my own share of mistakes. Perhaps by adimiting my own weaknesses I can find some type of absolution."

"That is what you spoke of with the Eighth Hero, then?" Argent's head snapped up in surprise at her words, his eyes narrowing.

"How did you...."

"Nothing happens in my jungle without my knowing," replied Syntax simply. "When you spoke, my jungle listened. Also, I looked within his case of supplies. I saw the weapons and memories. The only possible logic that can connect the various segments of information I have, is that he is a ronin, and the Eighth Hero. Are my conclusions incorrect?"

"No..." Argent sighed the words in resignation as he slumped back into his chair. The years seeming to creep into his aged face, the lines becoming deeper and more worn as vitality seemed to seep out of him. "He is what you think, though perhaps not completely. Part of his fall was brought about by my own failure. I sought his forgiveness. But he didn't give it to me, he just kept judging me, as Dominic does. They both know how I failed in my role in The Pit. And I know how my actions led to the evil that came upon Quentin. Yet I said nothing at the trial, I hid myself and let others answer for what may have been my own crimes."

Syntax watched as Argent seemed to become little more then a frightened old man. Fear of his own failures and weaknesses preying on his thoughts and deeds. She felt a twang of pity for him then, an emotion that rarely crossed her thoughts. She wondered if Dominic faced similar ghosts, if he battled with the memories of her fallen pack. She was forced to admit, the idea gave her some satisfaction.

"Statement: The runes have been decoded. You now have total access to the information." Blue Storm pulsed a deeper shade of blue with pride at the announcement. The few random emotions dancing within Syntax's head were brushed aside as she looked up and started to quickly read over the translated runes. A few moments later she had finished, and her gray eyes widened in fear.

"Oh Gaia...no." 


	11. Tears Not Seen in The Pouring Rain

Well, well, what is this? Could it be *gasp* that Thor finally got around to posting more of this oh so brilliant tale? The answer is...Literally! Things continue apace in this chapter, and I promise there should be enough violence for even the die hard combat gumby twinks out there. Plus there is some o so intriguing plot as the plans of the Black Spiral Dancers are revealed. All this and Jo! Now of course Tremere can get off my back about getting updates posted. Okay, before we start let me answer a few questions/opinions.

Jinroh: ...yeah, you're right. Smashing in the window doesn't make much sense. i guess I just got caught up in the general mayhem I was cuasing. I'll fix that any century now, thanks for the catch. As for my vampire story...which one? Arrrggh, I shall see about updates sooner or later, don't worry. Toss me a title though and I'll think about focusing on one.

Tremere: Yes, there is a reason. Wait and see if you can figure out what.

GrayFlank: Thanks for the kind words o horse that writes. No, there is nothing against bathroom mirrors, yes the players take advantage of this, yes there are evil ST tricks to mess with them anyways. As for the specialist remarks I think I blew it using that as the cliffhanger/shock ending twice. I'll have to adjust that. But anyways, on with the tale...

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit 

Chapter 10: Tears Not Seen in The Pouring Rain 

Stinkface shoved his way through the crowded street. Behind him trailed his pack. His Pack. He thought the words with pride. He was leader, and he had been put in charge of this operation. He snarled with glee as he remembered Kendar's words as he placed him in charge. You are proud of your skills, now let us see if I should be.' It had been a simple order, but carried with it all he needed to know. This was his chance, his time for glory and success. The human cattle took one look at his dark and dirty face and scurried out of the way. Those that didn't were snarled at as he roughly pushed them aside. None dared shout out angrily at him as he walked off. For he was the hunter.

They entered into the dark alley and Stinkface paused to allow the packs to form up. He had been put in charge of two other packs. Together with his own he now commanded thirteen warriors. More then enough to crush any opposition that might dwell within the warehouse. He pulled off the ratty sock cap he wore and allowed his dark hair to hang limply around his dirty face. He snarled slightly as he eyed the others, meeting each of their gazes and assuring himself of their readiness.

Are you ready to taste the blood of our foes? To tear their hearts from their chests? Around him heads nodded and dark smiles split eagerly across dirty faces. Only Pugdog and Quiggis didn't seem so eager. Of course they were the eldest there. The other packs both being young and inexperienced. The two older warriors simply stood quiet and ready. Quiggis scowling angrily, Pugdog carefully watching Stinkface. Let us go then. A two pronged attack. My pack shall tear through the roof and come down from above. You others shall enter through the front and rear doors and attack from below.

No, it shall be a full frontal attack. Only three shall be chosen to go upstairs. The quiet whisper hissed through the dark alley. Stinkface spun around in surprised anger, looking for the speaker. 

Who dares? Two shapes stepped out of the shadows. One a slender and beautiful woman with a wild mane of white hair. The second a tall and thin figure wrapped in black robes.

I dare. Endelon smiled as he spoke the words. His deep blue eyes glinted dangerously as they met Stinkface's gaze. Stinkface felt a tingle of fear pass through him. Why was Endelon here? Why did he seek to usurp his command of the packs? Stinkface knew Endelon would take his glory, leave him with nothing. He felt a low growl start to build in his throat. Suddenly a hand clamped down warningly on his shoulder.

A wise leader knows when to back down as well as attack, hissed Pugdog softly. Stinkface snarled at him and the older Dancer quickly stepped back again. He turned back to Endelon, who still stood with that eerie and easy grin on his face. He seemed relaxed and overconfident. But Stinkface saw that the dark blue eyes were watching him carefully indeed. He lowered his head slightly and looked away.

I accept your command, he said grudgingly. Endelon nodded. Behind him the strange woman laughed slightly. The packs quickly turned to hear the plan of the master assassin. 

* * *

I don't believe it, muttered Argent as he looked at the screen. He frowned as he shook his head and turned away. It is only the slimmest of moons in the sky tonight, is it not?

Tomorrow night, agreed Syntax quietly. She sat in her chair, the dim lights of the computers washing over her frowning face. We must warn the tribes, we must assemble a force to stop them. She turned towards Argent. You must go and warn the council now, tonight. Argent nodded as he turned to grab his cane. Syntax stood up and turned to another computer. Her slender fingers danced over the machine as the hum of computers grew louder. Blue Storm, full information download to backup files.

Statement: It shall be done. The glowing spider faded away from the screen. More hums grew from the collection of computers. Argent stood up and started to head through the large and darkened room towards the stairs.

You should call Dominic. I shall need his help in getting the council moved to swift action. Syntax nodded as she walked over to a table and picked up a cell phone. Then she froze. Her gray eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. The sounds of her jungle had just shifted.

Argent, get back here! Even as the words left her mouth dozens of flashing red lights exploded into activity across her console. Syntax snarled as she turned to watch them. She had been a fool, had become too distracted by the translation. She had forgotten to keep an eye out for approaching danger. She watched the monitor of the lower level with an angry scowl. The powerful black furred shapes came smashing through the walls. They had entered via the Penumbra, and had thus avoided most of her defenses. Syntax snarled angrily as the Pattern Spiders swarmed to the defense of the lair. But they would need all the help she could give if they were to stop that many Spirals.

Argent cried out in surprise as part of the roof caved in and three Black Spiral Dancers dropped into the dark computer room. Argent spun towards them. His face twisting up into a snarl of anger as he shifted into the crinos. His cane was tossed aside as the powerful silver man-wolf bellowed a cry of challenge to the three dark shapes. Argent stood proud, the dim lights of the computers dancing over his bright silver fur. His eyes glinted as he bared his long white fangs. The three twisted shadows of the Spirals simply chuckled. Their beady yellow eyes flashing eagerly in the darkness.

That was when the black robed figure seemed to appear out of the darkness behind Argent. Syntax felt her throat go tight as she shouted a warning. Argent reacted quicker then she had expected, his arm lashing out behind him as he spun suddenly. But the dark robed figure only grinned as it almost lazily ducked beneath the swing. Its robe billowed open as it drew forth two blackened blades. Bright gleams of silver visible along the sharp, deadly edges, and within the twisted runes that were etched along the blades. The weapons flashed as green fire suddenly danced along the edges, coating them in lethal balefire.

The strike was fast and sudden. The flaming blades hummed upwards and disappeared deep into the silver fur of Argent. The aged Silver Fang grunted in surprise, his whole body seeming to freeze in place. He slowly lowered his head and looked down into the smiling face of the Dancer. Argent's eyes blinked slowly. He turned to look over at Syntax. His arm languidly dropped down to his side. His clawed hand relaxing. A sudden bright dribble of red poured out of his mouth. The glistening flow of blood splashed down lightly on his chest. Spattering the gleaming silver coat with droplets of crimson red. 

He stood transfixed, facing death in this dark combat. Argent tried to smile kindly at her.

The Dancer snarled as he twisted his blades sharply, blood gushed out of the two holes and splattered on the floor. The Dancer howled in glee as it tore the blades out in a wide sweeping motion, ripping apart Argent's chest and showering the whole area in a spray of scarlet mist. Green fire hissed and crackled, burning Argent's fur and charring it black. The twin blades suddenly streaked back in, wide trails of boiling blood and spitting green flames hissing off of them as he slashed them across Argent's throat.

Get the other one, he snarled as he watched the Silver Fang crumple to the ground in a shower of gore. Syntax looked up as the three other Dancers cackled with glee as they rushed towards her. The horror of Argent's death was washed away in a flush of anger. She turned and ducked under her computer terminal. The Dancers snarled as they rushed over, peering into the darkness as they searched for her. But the shadows had seemed to swallow her whole.

Syntax felt the cold hard piece of anger in her grow larger. The ice burning with its very coldness. She allowed it to expand, demanded that it fill her. The skintight bodysuit seemed to disappear beneath a suddenly sprouting growth of midnight black hair. Her slender arms grew longer and thicker. Her delicate fingers thickened as her nails sharpened and hardened into deadly claws. Her mouth split open to reveal bright and sharp fangs. She let loose a howl of anger, its cry filling the dark computer room and seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Syntax's eyes narrowed as she crept along on all fours. Around her the dim sounds and hissing whirrs of her jungle continued. She moved with the noises, using them to mask her own sounds. She felt the approach of the Spirals, their existence a dark stain within the clean order of the jungle. She slipped into a corner and peered out from under a large hard drive rack. She saw the Spirals slowly spreading out. Nervously looking around as they pressed deeper and deeper into the maze-like jumble of computers and wires. She watched as one leaned down and pushed aside some hanging wires as he peeked behind them. She grinned.

At her growled command the electrical spirits within the wires put down their thoughts of painting messages. They gave up their movement and instead concentrated only on being. The buildup created a massive surge within the wires. The Spiral howled in agony as sparks flew and danced around him. His tangled black fur stood on end, small blue sparks popping and sizzling off him. Smoke hissed from his mouth as more wires burst and sparked. Blood leaked from his nose as he babbled in pain.

snarled one of the other Dancers as they both rushed towards their suffering friend. As they approached Syntax leapt from her hiding place. A silent streak of black in the darkness of the jungle. Around her the lights suddenly blinked off, plunging this section of the room into near total darkness save for the sparks dancing about Pussclaw. The closest Dancer gurgled in shock as her claws tore into his throat. He lashed out for her, but she was gone already. He tried to call out to his ally, but only a hissed gurgle escaped his wounded throat. He collapsed to his knees as he fought for air. Syntax landed softly on the polished floor. She unplugged a thick power cable and whispered softly to it.

I am Rapes-the-World, snarled the last Dancer as two flashes of green fire split the darkness. He raised his flame coated claws as he spat out curses at her. The powers of the Wyrm call to you, corrupted one. They seek your soul. Allow me to send it to them! He turned at the sound of a few hushed words. He snorted as he saw her crouching silently in the corner with only a cable for protection. Feel the fires bitch, he hissed as he raised his flaming hands towards her.

Syntax suddenly lifted the thick black cable up. It seemed to harden and straighten in her grasp. The large metal prongs twisted and sharpened into three sharp copper points. Sharp flashes of blue sparks danced and hissed between the tightly clustered spikes. Rapes-the-World hissed in surprised fear as she hurled the spear straight at his chest. The metal blades bit deep, but the powerful electrical surge bit deeper. He wailed as he dropped to his knees. The green fire on his claws danced wildly as sputtering blue sparks coursed across his skin. He reached up and jerked the cable spear from his chest as he collapsed weakly to the floor.

Syntax sprang forward again in another silent leap. She dropped atop the Spiral with the wounded neck. Forcing him to the ground as her teeth found his throat. He whimpered in fear as her fangs cut deep into his rancid, oily, flesh. She twisted her head around with a snarl as she ripped out his throat. She spat aside the bloody remains with a disgusted hiss. The Dancer collapsed to the floor, blood frothing forth from the fatal wound. The sounds of the jungle suddenly changed. Without even thinking Syntax sprang away, even as another shape hissed down on where she had been.

You're fast for a Glass Walker, hissed the shape with a chuckle as it stood. Syntax snarled as she eyed the new foe. The female was slim and unimposing. However her right forearm was no longer that of a human, it was the powerful and clawed arm of a werewolf. The woman's hazel green eyes danced with hatred as she smiled at Syntax. From the side Syntax saw the advance of the robed figure. He too grinned at her with dead, emotionless eyes. He held up a bloody lump of muscle in his gore coated hand. It was a human heart. His voice hissed out quietly to her.

Don't be afraid. We all dieeven heroes. 

* * *

Let me get this straight, said Mr. Barnes as he looked around the factory with a smirk. All of those, he vaguely waved his hand at the Dancers that were milling around the catwalks, are trying to catch their scent? You're literally going to try and track by scent?

Kendar stood silent and puffed on his cigarette. His gleaming yellow eyes narrowed slightly as they peered out from under his fedora. Inside of the pockets of his trench coat his hands curled into fists. Gorefist sensed his coming anger. She turned to glare at the ape, the sight of her milky dead eye causing the monkey to step back from her slightly. Gorefist sneered at him as he did so and turned back to watch the trackers. One of them suddenly raised his head and shouted down.

The scent goes to the roof and disappears, we don't know where!

What did he just say, muttered Mr. Barnes. The ape being unable to understand the tongue of the Garou. Kendar slowly turned to look at the pale faced, middle aged, monkey.

Where did they go from the roof? The scent goes away.

Oh, that. Mr. Barnes chuckled and shook his head. They hopped off into the parking lot before they disappeared. Kendar's eyes narrowed as his back straightened. Despite the fact he towered well over a foot taller then Mr. Barnes the foolish monkey didn't look the least bit fearful. I suppose I should have mentioned that already then? Sorry, I don't often track people by sniffing the ground.

Everyone outside, now! Homid or lupus forms! Kendar turned and stormed through the doors, champing at his cigar in annoyance. Where was it that they landed? Mr. Barnes waved vaguely over at one section of the parking lot. The trackers snarled as they turned and ran over to the area. Kendar turned back to Mr. Barnes. That cost us time. Lord Fer-guath has told me that time is of the essence.

So very sorry, said Mr. Barnes with a slight tilt of his head. I must not have read up enough on how to be a wolf. My fault entirely. Kendar glanced over at Gorefist, her lips curled back in a snarl of disgust. Suddenly Kendar felt an odd twinge from his pocket. He reached into his coat and drew out a mummified ear. Mr. Barnes recoiled slightly at the sight of the thing as Kendar pressed it to his lips. he muttered, that is ghastly.

growled Kendar deeply, we shall have the scent of Dominic soon. What is it you wished to tell me? Kendar quickly lifted the ear up to his own.

They have discovered information about the operation besides the creation of the chemical, Fer-guath's voice hissed faintly through the ear. They have also investigated one of the sites and learned about the preparations there. They shall all be heading back to that warehouse location the monkeys gave you. Kendar felt his teeth grind together at the thought.

But all I sent there was a few-

Worry not. Endelon is with them now, and they shall not stay. You must make haste there to trap Dominic and destroy him. Kendar nodded at the words, then he paused and glanced at Mr. Barnes.

Lord, what other use does the corporation have for us?

Now? Very little, they have played their part. Nothing can stop the ritual now. Just make sure that Dominic is dead by dawn. Kendar nodded again and slid the ear back into his pocket. He turned with a cold glare back to Mr. Barnes who shrugged slightly.

Kendar shouted loudly and the head of the pack doing the tracking peered up at him. We move now to the warehouse! Everyone get moving, now!

I just love those names, chuckled Mr. Barnes with a grin. Kendar turned slowly to look back at the monkey. Though don't you ever run out? I mean, how many of you can you really call Fleabag before it gets confusing. Mr. Barnes laughed and shook his head. Sorry, sorry, just a joke.

Contact your master for me, I wish to speak with him. Mr. Barnes shrugged. He pulled out a cell phone and quickly dialed a number. He handed the phone to Kendar. Gorefist walked up behind Mr. Barnes. An odd and eager smile on her face. Her good eye glinting anxiously.

This is Sands, came the crisp reply from the other end.

This is Kendar.

Ah yes, the head collector, said Sands with a small chuckle. I remember you. Still the leader, eh? Not been ripped apart yet? That's good. How goes the operation? Have you managed to get the Garou yet? I really need it done quickly you know.

I don't work for you, monkey. Your worm monkey friend has cost me precious time and patience. How valuable is he to you? Mr. Barnes grew suddenly tense. Gorefist pressed herself up against him as she hugged him from behind. He tried to shrug her off unsuccessfully.

Now see here Kendar, I don't think you understand what-

No! It is you who doesn't understand. He is a fool and he is weak. As are all monkeys. Barnes twisted in Gorefist's grip, his face becoming angry. You humans think yourselves better? We wolves know how to deal with failure.

Get off me you freaky bitch! Barnes elbowed backward, slamming his arm hard into her gut. Gorefist hissed in annoyance. But instead of letting go she suddenly bit down on his ear. Mr. Barnes howled in surprised pain as her teeth sank deep into the flesh, blood gushing out around her lips.

I agree, Mr. Barnes is in need of proper disciplinary action, sighed Mr. Sands. Kendar grinned as he watched Gorefist jerk her head back, ripping Mr. Barne's ear off in a shower of blood. But I assure you I shall deal with that in my own time and way. You would do well not to hurt him. I consider him a valuable asset of my company. 

And why should I give a shit? Mr. Barnes staggered away from Gorefist. He growled in anger as one of his hands reached up to clutch at the bloody stump where his ear had once been. He spun on her in rage, his eyes flaring yellow. A strange green mucus seemed to start to seep out of his skin. The substance dissolving and burning at his clothes and hair.

Listen to me you flea bitten, inbred, freak. I don't know what they tell you down in those sewers and caves of yours. But me and mine are the true forces of the Wyrm's power in this city! Gorefist smirked at Mr. Barnes. She pulled aside one side of her leather jacket to reveal her large breast. She licked her teeth slightly as she ran the bloody remains of his ear along it, coating her small stiff nipple with his blood. If you think you're more important to the master then we are you're a bigger fool then even Barnes.

Tell me something Sands, snarled Kendar as he seemed to start to grow larger. You keep laughing about it, and I have to know. The shadow fell across Barnes. Gorefist smiled eagerly, her good eye growing almost as wide as the dead white orb next to it. Barnes spun around and looked up. His jaw fell open in terror. Why you think I'm called The Head Collector!

The last sounds Robert Sands heard through the phone were a horrible scream followed by the wet tearing of flesh. Kendar slowly closed his fist, crushing the tiny phone in it as though it were a child's toy. He held up the head and chuckled at it as he dropped it into a large pouch that hung from his waist. Gorefist walked forward with a laugh. He grabbed her and easily picked her up from the ground as his rough tongue lapped the blood from her breast. 

* * *

taken a cab and not had to put up with all this darn walking. We could have even stopped for a bite to eat, literally stopped and eaten. I knew I should have gotten myself a second hot dog, but nooo, I had to get some for you guys. It might even have been better if I didn't need to keep an eye on you. Hell, it literally would have been better. I could have given this walking joke the laugh and flown. I could have been there by now, y'know?

The three walked through the Penumbra of Detroit. Tall office buildings stretched into the sky, only visible as ghostly outlines formed of pattern webs. Old houses long ago demolished stood bright and strong still. The sky overhead was a strange maelstrom of incredibly thick gray pollution and crystal clear skies that let the stars shine down with indescribable brilliance. Charlie glanced up at the thin sliver of moon in the sky. The brightly glowing moon almost seemed to be smirking about some joke known only to her.

Jo continued on with her description about why things would have been better if they hadn't had to travel through the Penumbra. However Charlie had totally shredded his clothes when he had gone to crinos. When faced with the thought of wandering around half naked through Detroit Charlie had happily agreed to just walk back to Syntax's lair this way. Dominic had also agreed, deciding it would be a safer and more effective method of travel. They had both tuned out Jo about eight blocks back. 

They came out into the warehouse district Syntax occupied near the corner of Arnold Drive and Benedict Boulevard. The buildings here had little spiritual impact, and thus the area appeared more like a vast and barren stretch of ground. The ground burnt and ruined by the effects of Weaver and Wyrm.

From this perspective Syntax's lair took on a whole different light, thought Charlie with a touch of surprise. The silvery webs of the warehouse spun upward in intricate and artistic loops and spirals. The curving and flowing roof of the structure was offset by sporadic clusters of incoming webs. These message webs stretched away in all directions. Little pulses of glowing blue danced and moved along the delicate silvery strands. Bringing information in and out of the web. Charlie paused for a moment and looked at the structure with a slight touch of awe.

Move it pup! Charlie jerked back to his senses as he saw Dominic spring forward towards the web. He quickly ran after him, then came up short as he saw what had alerted Dominic. There, laying about a hole shredded through the webbing, lay the shattered bodies of some Pattern Spiders. Charlie peered through the hole and gasped in shock. Broken bits of Pattern Spiders were strewn all over the interior. Some still feebly twitched. Others lay motionless in pools of leaking blue blood.

What the hell, muttered Jo as she looked around at the carnage. The webs had been torn, and lay in tattered disarray. A few pattern spiders weakly roamed around trying to repair the damage. Their bodies still bearing the marks of their own wounds. Claw marks. Teeth marks. Bloody gashes torn brutally across their bodies.

gasped Charlie in fear. Dominic snarled as he drew forth Bonespur and stepped sideways. The air splitting around him as he reentered the real world. Jo and Charlie quickly followed him through. On this side the warehouse appeared mostly untouched. Only a hole in the wall and a few smashed boxes hinting at the ferocious butchery that had happened to the spirits. Dominic sprinted to the stairs. His long black coat billowed around him as he took the steps three at a time.

Charlie burst into the darkened computer room only moments after Dominic. He winced at the sight of the place. Monitors lay smashed and shattered upon the floor. Others had had their screens shattered in, small crackling fires burning within their broken shells. Wires had been ripped out of the backs of machines, their shredded ends occasionally popping or sparking. Whole banks of computers had been shoved over, the shattered pieces strewn across the floor. An acrid tangy smell clung to the air. A scent of burnt ozone from all the small electrical fires. A trace of smoke. A hint of spilled blood.

Oh Gaia, gasped Charlie as he looked around, stunned by the desecration of the room. Dominic continued to move through the room, his klaive at the ready and his eyes alert. Jo stepped up next to Charlie and looked around the room quietly. He shook his head. What could have done this?

One guess, said Jo stiffly as she pointed at one of the far walls. Charlie followed her finger to look at the large symbol scrawled on the wall. A symbol drawn in slowly drying blood. A symbol of a twisted and maddened spiral. The mark of the Black Spiral Dancers.

Dominic's voice was soft and cold as he dropped down to his knees behind a shattered rack of monitors. Jo and Charlie quickly rushed over to see. Dominic was kneeling next to the crumpled body of an elderly man. Lord Moros Argent, his throat slashed open and his chest torn apart. A bloody cavity marked where his heart had been forcibly torn from his body. The splattered red gore crusted his white shirt and snowy white skin. Charlie gagged slightly and turned away, unable to stand the sight. There are two dead Dancers over near the back corner, said Dominic as he stood up. One electrocuted to death, the other with a torn open throat.

Syntax didn't go down quietly, Jo murmured with a nod. She wouldn't have let them harm her jungle without a fight.

I didn't see her body.

Jo frowned and looked around curiously. Charlie slowly turned back towards them. He too looked about slowly. Yet there was no sign of the stern Glass Walker. She had to have been here, hissed Jo as she slowly circled through the computers. There's no way she wandered off and left the place with Argent.

Then where is she, asked Charlie as he bent over to peer under some tables. Do you think she was able to escape?

No way. If she had run off she'd be back here by now trying to fix things. Jo cursed as she continued towards the dark back corner of the room. Heading towards the dead Dancers.

Maybe they hunted her down and killed her in the streets, offered Dominic with a shrug as he followed her. Charlie scowled at the calm in Dominic's voice. Didn't he even feel anything for the death of his old friend? 

Charlie walked back over to Argent. He knelt next to him, steeling himself against the horror of the great hero's passing. Charlie carefully wiped the blood from his face and folded Argent's hands restfully upon his belly. Charlie then slowly shifted into his lupus form. The brown wolf tilted its head back and started to emit a long, low, and mournful howl. Dominic looked back at him, then turned his dark gaze to Argent as Charlie mourned for the hero's passing.

Soon a second howl joined the first, a mournful cry for the fallen. 

* * *

Snapback pulled the truck up next to the warehouse. Leona quickly sprang out the instant the stranger opened the door. She was more then happy to be out of the accursed driving machine. Even if soon she would be back in the room of blinking lights. However her joy was short lived as her sensitive ears caught the sad wail of a Howl of Mourning. One voice speaking of a great hero, the other speaking of a friend. She stiffened as her ears dropped back against her head in worry.

What's wrong doggy, chuckled Snapback, still taking far too much pleasure out of her time in a leash and collar. Leona snarled at him, frustrated at the limitation of human hearing. However even as she thought that she saw the stranger pause and cock his head slightly.

Something happened, he said softly as he turned and hastened into the warehouse. Leona right on his heels. Snapback cursed as he pulled himself out of the truck and trundled after them. They burst through the door. Leona caught the scent of blood and the sound of the howl coming from upstairs. The howl quickly died away as Dominic appeared on the stairway, klaive in hand, his face drawn and slightly pale. The Shadow Lord frowned slightly at the sight of them and then grunted.

Get up here, we have problems. The stranger lightly ran up the steps with Leona and Snapback close behind. The first thing Leona saw upon entering was the slightly built young man wearing shredded black slacks. Her mouth split open in a happy grin as she barked in loud greetings to her packmate. Charlie looked up in surprise as she bounded across the room and rushed against him. He staggered slightly as she rested her paws on his chest and growled happily at him.

hey there Leona, he managed while trying to push her off. She almost laughed at his nervousness. Probably the poor human didn't even realize she was only being happy. How strange it must be to not really know the difference between one growl and another. Snapback came up slower and swatted Charlie roughly across the back.

Shocked to see you lived, boy. Both Snapback and Leona looked Charlie over with a bit of surprise. He had grown much since last they saw him. His once nervous stance was now replaced by a more confident posture. His shoulders no longer hunched, instead they were thrown back and more square. A long curving scar traced down through his cheek and curled sharply under his jaw, adding a touch of menace to his once boyish face. Humph, looks like you grew a set of balls since last we saw you.

said Charlie with a weak smile as he massaged his sore shoulder. I'm happy to see you're both okay too. They then all turned to watch Dominic and the stranger. Leona fell silent as she spotted the dead form of Argent on the floor nearby. Dominic seemed to be discussing what he had learned at the factory. The stranger described the cave he had discovered under the lake.

But where's Syntax, said the stranger as he again looked around the ruined computer room. Leona looked around too, realizing there was no sign of the Glass Walker. Charlie turned and slowly walked back over towards Argent's body.

Missing, and we have no idea how to find her. Dominic snarled as he stroked his fingers along his short beard. If only we could learn what happened during the fight, then we-

Oh God! They all spun around to look at Charlie as he staggered back a few steps. His hand cupped over his mouth and his face having gone pale white. His eyes were fixed on a back corner of the room, they were wide with horror. Leona quickly scampered forward and followed his gaze. A dead Black Spiral Dancer lay on the ground. His throat torn open and thick pools of blood coagulating around him. One of his eye-sockets had been ripped apart, and was leaking blood from the empty cavity. A large black raven was perched on his nose. Her beak dug away at his second eye-socket, peeling back the dead gray flesh as it started to pluck out the eye. Dominic walked up to stand next to Leona and he too watched the scene.

Good idea Jo, there might be a clue, he said with a nod and smile.

Oh God There was a gagging and splattering noise as Charlie collapsed to his knees and lost it. Dominic glanced over his shoulder, surprised at the pup's reaction. Charlie choked and spat out some of the last dregs while gasping in a weak voice. Oh God, she alreadyshe ate one. Why does she need the second?

She did say she was hungry, offered Dominic with a shrug. There was another moan from Charlie as he again retched. The raven tilted its head back as it slurped down the last globules of the eye. It then cawed as it hopped off the body and shifted once again into the skinny dark shape of Jo. For a few moments it seemed as though she looked guiltily at the stranger. Her dark eyes seeming pained and worried. Then she shook her head and the moment passed, leaving Leona to wonder if she'd seen it in the first place.

Y'know, I sometimes literally love my job. Jo smacked her lips slightly as she hopped up to sit on a table. Once again there were a few more sick retches from Charlie. But as tasty as that was, it wasn't too informative. There was a fight. That robed Dancer with the flaming klaives and his pals burst in here. He killed Argent while the others attacked Syntax. She killed two and seriously wounded another. But Again Leona caught a scent of unease from Jo. Again she spotted that odd guilty look at the stranger. But then some others showed up and surrounded her. That's all I could see.

No body, muttered the stranger with a frown. Why is there no body?

We are left knowing as little as we did before, muttered Dominic.

Statement: That is an incorrect assumption. There was a wild hissing sound as one of the computer screens suddenly flared to life. Jo looked over in surprise at the suddenly active computer.

Wow, who would have thought that still worked?

Statement: Syntax did devise the jungle with the capability to survive even near lethal attacks. We shall endure. Leona growled slightly at the strange shimmering spider that formed on the screen. Its shiny blue body resting atop a wild pattern of weaving intricate lines.

Who are you, and why was I wrong, snarled Dominic as he walked over to the computer.

Answer to primary query: I am Blue Storm. Answer to secondary query: I possess information that Syntax deemed vitally important. It was, by her classification, the heart of their plan. Their; being identified as the Black Spiral Dancers tribe. Query: Do you wish this information?

Yes, I wish it! Tell me the plan now! Dominic leaned in close to the screen, his dark eyes glaring at the shimmering spider.

Statement: I cannot draw inferences from data, I may only state facts. Solution: I shall print out a copy of the data that you may infer from it as you may. There was a hiss and a few more sparks. Then came a low hum as one of the printers started to work. Dominic grunted in satisfaction as he walked over to retrieve the paper. The stranger stepped forward and looked down at the spider.

Tell me Blue Storm, do you know what happened to Syntax?

Answer to query: Yes. The stranger frowned slightly after it became apparent this was all the spider was planning to say. He growled at the screen, his hands clenching. Even as he raised his fist Jo quickly stepped in the way and smiled sweetly at the screen.

Describe what happened please.

Statement: The Dancer in robes and the female who was not a Dancer beat her horribly. They then gathered her up and departed. At last sighting she was in poor health.

What female who was not a Dancer, asked the stranger with a frown.

Never mind that, said Jo loudly as she elbowed him in the side. He stepped back with a sigh as he let her move him away from the computer. Don't you think we should be trying to find where they've taken Syntax? Jo turned back to the computer and began talking again to Blue Storm.

They all turned to Dominic as he looked over the papers in his hands. Leona was shocked to note the slight tremor in the Shadow Lord's hands. Their shaking causing the papers to ruffle slightly. His eyes were filled with worry and a trace offear? Leona whined softly, uneasy with anything that could cause Dominic such concern. 

How bad is it, asked Jo from her spot in front of the computer.

Dominic looked up from the sheets slowly. This is worse then I could have ever imagined. 

Does anyone else smell that, came the quiet voice of the stranger. He twisted his head and moved nearer to the stairs. Leona padded towards him and sniffed slightly, then her ears dropped against her head as she too caught the scent.

The piercing cry warbled up from the warehouse below. The stranger quickly fell back from the stairway, his eyes warily watching it. Leona backed up with him, growling as she watched the door. Jo suddenly shouted in fear as she dove under a table for cover. Two large gray furred figures dropped through the hole in the roof. Their red eyes shone brightly as they glared about the dark room. There was another crash as a second hole was formed. Three more shapes dropped into the computer room.

Get out of here, I'll hold them! Dominic bellowed the order even as he drew out his klaive and turned towards the charging trio of Spirals. The doorway suddenly exploded inward as more dark shapes swarmed into the room. Their red eyes flashed as their fang filled mouths slavered. A tall figure stood ominously in the doorway. His yellow eyes glowing from the shadows under his fedora.

Now you die! 

* * *

Holy shit, screeched Jo, it's Kendar!

Charlie felt a stab of dread pierce his heart with those few words. Kendar. The Head Collector. Champion of the Wyrm. His name was known even amongst the tribes. Many were the brave Garou who had died in battle against the dread warrior. They needed to get out of here, fast. But how?

The roof, we can use the roof, yelled Jo desperately.

The ronin's voice carried sharply over the mad warbles of the Black Spiral's as he leaped up onto a bank of computers and then sprang through one of the holes in the roof. Charlie growled as he allowed the primal call of Gaia to flow through him. Thick brown fur coated him as his body expanded to that of the wolf-man. He snarled as he sprang forward through the gap in the roof after the ronin. There was another set of roars as Leona and Snapback followed.

The night air had gone dead and calm. The electric feel of a storm hanging heavy about him. The rooftop was dark and silent. But Charlie could see the flashing red eyes of the many dark shapes that ringed the roof's edge. The ronin turned towards them, his dark eyes narrowing as he let his hands fall to his sides. He jerked his jaw slightly upward, his face set and grim.

Charlie, get to the truck, I'll clear the way. Charlie nodded nervously as the ronin started to slowly advance. Below them they heard a roar as Dominic sprang into battle below. But he had little time to worry about anything other then his own problems. A svelte and deadly looking Dancer advanced with a snarl towards them. Behind it the others followed. The Dancer's good eye blazed bright red, the other was a large milky white orb that saw nothing. The ronin paused as he eyed the advancing Dancers. Charlie saw him seem to falter slightly, his face growing slack, but then he whispered to himself. Evil triumphs

In a sudden blur of movement the ronin sprang forward. His tan trench coat flaring up around him as he sprang for the Dancers. The dead-eyed one snarled loudly as it lunged forward to meet him. The Dancer came in with her arms wide, her mouth ready to bite. Behind her charged two more, their eyes agleam with bloodlust. The ronin charged straight ahead, apparently unconcerned by his much larger opponent. He rushed her straight on, heading for her fangs as he pulled back an arm to strike. Charlie and Leona both snarled in fear as they started to rush forward.

The Dancer howled in victory as she pulled up short, jerking her head back as her arms swung in to rend him apart from both sides. But even as her claws approached him the ronin seemed to fade away, his body shrinking to that of a red furred wolf. The Dancer hissed in anger as her claws caught nothing but air. Even as he passed between her legs the wolf howled as it sprang upward and clamped its jaws onto the throat of one of the surprised Dancers charging behind, one eye. Again the ronin changed shape. 

Even as he bite down hard the wolf seemed to swell in size, transforming into the larger and more primal wolf-form of the hispo. The biting force of his jaws vastly increased as his fangs grew longer even as he was biting down. The resulting force nearly tore the Dancer's head clean off as he collapsed in a shower of gore. The ronin continued to transform as he spun around and shoved his paw towards the gut of the second Dancer. His arm grew more muscular and longer as he thrust it forward. The paw transformed into a clawed hand that tore deeply into the Dancer's belly. The ronin howled as he assumed his crinos form and tore his bloody hand free of the Dancer's shredded abdomen.

Charlie gasped in awe at the awesome sight of the ronin's appearance. His massive body was covered in a thick, shaggy coat of red fur that did little to hide the finely honed muscles beneath it. The thick mane of hair around his head remained, and was still pulled back from his face by the piece of silk. His tawny lips spread back from gleaming white fangs as he snarled a loud challenge to the other Dancers. As one they swarmed towards him. The ronin sprang forward to meet their charge. Their black shapes flocked in to surround him, pulling away from the path to the truck.

Follow me, Charlie bellowed to Leona and Snapback as he charged the edge of the roof. He ran straight on, knowing that their only chance was to get out of this trap. A thin and emaciated Dancer leapt into his path, it's eyes flashing with the green glow of balefire. Charlie snarled as he swept out his hand in a quick backhand. His claws caught the Dancer across the chest, slashing four bloody gouges across the mottled gray skin. The Dancer howled as it fell back and Charlie again rushed on. Over the edge, get to the truck!

The small, tawny, shape of Leona sprinted past him in an easy burst of wolfish speed as she sprang over the edge and dropped from sight. Charlie was about to leap himself when a blast of searing agony tore across his left leg. He bellowed in pain as he dropped to his knees. He turned around and looked at his leg, he snarled in surprise at the black whip that was wrapped tightly around his calf. Sharp black spines protruded from the whip and were cutting deeply into his flesh. He looked back at the thin Dancer who held the vicious weapon, a sneering grin on its twisted face.

Snapback, help! Charlie twisted around and grabbed onto the whip. He felt the barbs rip into his hands as he tried to pull it off his legs. But the harder he pulled the deeper and tighter the thorns seemed to dig. He glanced up in confusion to the dark gray and black shape of Snapback. The hunched metis stood nearby, a strange look of fear and confusion in his narrow eyes. Charlie snarled as he felt a flash of anger pass through him at Snapback's bizarre hesitation. He grabbed the whip again and pulled hard on it, his claws shredding into the spongy whip as he howled in frustration. His calf was torn apart as he ripped and tore the whip out of him in bloody strips.

It do you no good, snarled the Dancer as he jerked his wrist and pulled the whip back to him. He stepped forward and raised the weapon again. Charlie rolled to the side as the whip slashed down with a snap onto the rooftop. The Dancer jerked it back again as Charlie rose to his feet. Suddenly Snapback sprang forward, his powerful arm lashing out to crash into the Dancer's face and send him sprawling away. Charlie looked over in confusion as Snapback turned and rushed towards him.

Get going, boy!

Charlie paused to glance beyond Snapback to the ronin. He gasped as he saw a massive Spiral wrap its arms around the ronin's chest. However, even as it started to tighten its hold he seemed to drop out of its grasp as he reverted to his homid state. The ronin dropped to his knees and quickly spun about. For a brief instant his hand transformed into sharpened claws before he slammed them hard into the Dancer's gut. The beast howled as the ronin tore his hand back out and leaped away. The other Dancers falling back from him in surprised fear.

We're leaving, Charlie bellowed to him as he made ready to leap. The ronin nodded as he turned to make his way for the roof's edge as well. It was then that Charlie noted the one-eyed Dancer raising her hands and pointing them towards him and Snapback. The ronin noted it at the same instant and sprang forward. The ronin's hand swept out and smacked down along the tops of her arms, throwing off the Dancer's aim. However amidst a spray of blood the Dancer's claws suddenly shot off her fingers and hissed through the air towards him and Snapback. 

The talons slashed into his lower back and legs, tossing him off balance and sending him tumbling over the edge of the rooftop. As Charlie spun through the air he thought he heard the deep bellow of Snapback as he too was hit. Then there was a sharp flash of pain as he slammed down hard onto the pavement below. Charlie groaned as he lifted his head, he was laying in the far end of the alley from the truck. Snapback lay crumpled near him. He could see Leona, her tail stiff with worry, as she crouched in the back of the truck. Of the ronin there was no sign. He pushed himself to his feet, his legs flaring in pain as he placed weight upon them. Charlie groaned as he limped towards Snapback and shook him. The metis slowly lifted his head and growled.

What happened?

Just get moving, snapped Charlie as he turned and started to stagger towards the truck.

A section of the warehouse wall was shredded open. Thick wooden boards splintering apart as they were tossed into the alley. Charlie looked up in dread as six Black Spirals stepped through the hole, putting themselves between the truck and him. They growled eagerly as they spotted the two wounded wolves, their red eyes shining above their fang filled smiles.

Nice knowing you, boy, muttered Snapback, his hunched shoulders slumping in defeat, his hand reaching into his pouch. As the Dancers started forward a sudden reddish glow outlined their bodies. Charlie looked up as he heard the loud roar of a motor. The Dancers spun around in amazement as the truck sped towards them. There was a loud crunch as the rear bumper slammed into one of their chests. The other Dancers springing to the sides of the alley to avoid the impact. The truck rolled easily over the bellowing Dancer as it continued towards them. snarled Snapback in surprise.

I didn't know she could drive, said Charlie softly as the truck roared towards them.

She can't, hissed Snapback as he stumbled out of the way. Charlie cursed as he too tried to avoid the truck. However his left leg gave out under him, the muscles unable to cope with the rapid motion and the claw wounds. There was a loud screech as brakes were applied hard even as the car smashed into him. He groaned in pain as he was tossed to the ground. Snapback quickly hobbled over and pulled at his arm. Get into the back. Move it you weakling!

What do I do now? I hate this thing! Leona twisted about in the driver's seat, her eyes wide and fearful. Charlie suspected it was more from the experience of driving then the danger of the Dancers. He and Snapback weakly pulled themselves into the bed of the truck. Charlie happily collapsed, his legs feeling as though red hot pokers had been driven through them. Snapback crawled up to the window in the back of the cab and shouted at Leona.

Shift the stick on the right of the wheel two notches down, then floor it! Leona pulled at the gear shift as the Dancers howled and charged forward. Floor it damnit!

I am flooring it, snarled Leona angrily. The Dancers closed in quickly, their fangs frothing with greenish bile as they slavered in anticipation of the kill. Charlie snarled as he forced himself to stand, at least he'd go down fighting. I've been flooring it!

The other it, the other it!!!

This one? The truck suddenly jerked forward with a wild start. Charlie cursed as he was thrown off balance and fell back to slam into the back of the truck. Snapback was shoved away from the window and slid across the metal to smash into him. The truck charged ahead, again Charlie heard a loud thump as Leona managed to run over yet another Black Spiral.  
Suddenly his shoulder was torn open as a pair of claws were driven deeply into it. Charlie howled in pain as a large Dancer pulled itself into view. Its face and body were marked with stains and scuffs, suggesting it had been driven over and caught at the truck as it was dragged underneath. Another Dancer howled in glee as it sprang from the side of the alley to latch onto the passenger door. It laughed as, with a shriek of metal, it tore the door off its hinges and tossed it away. The truck jerked wildly as the Dancer reached in for Leona.

Even as they passed the far corner of the warehouse another figure entered the fray. Springing from the warehouse roof, the ronin's tattered coat fluttered around him as he sailed through the air. He slammed down on roof of the truck, his blood spattered hands scrabbling for a handhold. 

Charlie was pulled back hard as the Dancer holding him used him as leverage to pull itself up. Reacting instinctively Charlie swiveled his head around and clamped his jaws down on the Dancer's wrist. His teeth dug deep into the putrid flesh and ground at the bone. The Dancer howled in pain even as Snapback rose up and struck it hard across the side of the head. The powerful blow tore its claws from Charlie's shoulder, and its wrist from his mouth. Blood sprayed from its torn face as the Dancer was cast away from the speeding truck.

At the same moment the ronin pulled himself off the roof to slide over the windshield and onto the hood. He reached over and grabbed onto the frame of the window, his hands practically in the face of the Dancer there. It paused in surprise as it turned to snarl at him. But the ronin quickly levered himself up and snapped out his legs as he smashed through the windshield in a shower of glass. Continuing the motion around his feet slammed hard into the Dancer's chest, knocking the shocked creature off the truck to collide hard with the alley wall behind it. The ronin then quickly halted the motion and landed on the running board.

We have to go faster, shouted Charlie as he slowly lifted his head to peer behind them. There were around eight large, dark, shapes sprinting after them. The narrowed red eyes of the Dancers burned with hatred as they pushed themselves to move faster after their fleeing prey. Their powerful muscles and feral bodies allowing them to move as fast, and even faster then the truck. Faster, Leona, faster!

I'm flooring it, screamed Leona in frustration as the truck continued down the alley in a wobbly pattern, its engine making a horrible grinding noise.

Shift gears! Shift the gears, Snapback ordered as he pulled himself towards the back of the cab again. He reached through the window and quickly shifted the stick. Charlie breathed out a sigh of relief as the motor started to run smoother and the gap between them and the Dancers started to grow again. Snapback also grunted in satisfaction. Well, now the hard part's over

Is that the street, asked the ronin softly as he looked ahead of them. Charlie turned to look and gulped in fear as he spotted the busy road ahead.

Go slower Leona, slower!

You said faster!

Shift the gears back, bellowed Snapback as he again reached into the cab.

Oh Gaia preserve, muttered the ronin as he pulled himself into the passenger seat and held on for dear life.

With a wild roar the truck shot out of the alley and into the road. Charlie was tossed back as Leona made a wild left turn, the tires squealing as they ground on the pavement. Even as Charlie tried to rise again he was tossed to the side as Leona made a sharp swerve to the left. There was a loud blaring of a horn as a semi sped past on their right. The massive rig only missing them by a few feet. Charlie looked back in wide-eyed terror as the truck jackknifed and flipped over on its side. It then occurred to him that either that truck and all the cars ahead of it were heading the wrong direction or

We're on the wrong side of the road!

Change lanes! Change lanes!

I did! How do I stop?

We're on the wrong side of the road!

Don't stop now! 

Snapback tried to reach the wheel, but could only brush at it with his claws. To add to the problem Leona saw him coming and quickly let go and leaned back. The truck suddenly jerked to the right and clipped the back end of a Beetle, sending the smaller vehicle careening across two other lanes of traffic. There was a loud bang as the truck bottomed out upon leaping over the median, sparks spraying out as they scraped over the concrete. Snapback cursed loudly as he was thrown back from the window and tumbled across the bed of the truck to slam into Charlie.

Ease up on the gas, snarled the ronin as he reached across to grab at the wheel. The truck jerked around slightly as he weaved it at high speeds through traffic. Slow down!

How do I slow down?

Get off me, boy! Charlie was shoved to the side as Snapback sat up. There was a sudden clanging of metal and a large blue object flipped through the air and cracked into Snapback's face and shoulder. He grunted in surprise as he was thrown down again. Charlie looked back at the mailbox as it crashed to the ground amidst a shower of letters.

Brake! Brake! Charlie shouted the words as he realized they were swerving around on the sidewalk. The ronin had shouldered Leona back as he tried to drive, she stared in white eyed terror out the shattered windshield. 

This one?

The ronin's cry came a split second too late as Leona reached over and shoved down on the brakethe parking brake. There was a terrible squeal as smoke suddenly sprayed out of the back tires. The truck twisted about and was suddenly brought to a bone jarring halt as they smashed into a light post. The few remaining pieces of the windshield were torn apart as the ronin was sent hurtling through it to hit with a sickening crunch against the cement pole. Charlie was hurled forward and slammed hard into the back of the cab, his face shattering against the rear window. Snapback was tossed over the side to crash hard against the concrete front of the building nearby.

There was a click as Leona undid her seat-belt.

I hate these things, she snarled as she leaped out of the cab. Are you all okay? Charlie nodded as he sat up, bits of glass embedded in the skin of his face. The ronin coughed up some blood as he pulled himself up by grabbing the hood. Snapback only rolled over and looked bleakly at the smoking wreck.

If you ever try to drive again, warn me. So I can run away first! 

Charlie nodded, in full agreement with that plan as he slowly stood up, his legs still throbbing in sharp flashes of pain. Then he heard the screams. He looked over in surprise as cars screeched to a stop and pedestrians yelled in terror. He looked back at himself and Snapback, both still in crinos form. The humans took one look at the towering werewolves and fled in terror, many abandoning their cars in favor of flight on foot. The nighttime street becoming a clogged confusion of panic and fear. The ronin snarled as he pushed himself to his feet. He too was a sight, his rust colored hair was now stained bright red with blood. His coat had been torn and shredded apart. A few nasty gashes marked his arms and chest. He stumbled up to the passenger door of the truck and pulled out his wooden box from where it had been stored.

We need to get out of sight quickly, follow me. His voice, though soft, carried a unquestioningly forceful tone of command. He turned and grabbed Snapback, helping the wounded metis to move. Charlie weakly limped out of the truck where Leona rushed to aid him. Both she and the ronin transformed into crinos as well, to an accompanying chorus of louder screams from the few pedestrians who were standing, frozen with fear, in the street.

Where's Jo? What happened to Dominic?

Dominic chose to stay, muttered the ronin, he shall face what he wished to.

And Jo?

If there's one thing I know, it's that she can take care of herself. The quartet of wounded and tired warriors fled down the first alley they came to. But despite their own wounds and the danger of their situation, Charlie found himself worrying about Dominic and Jo. And about what had been on those papers to so frighten the usually coldly cynical Shadow Lord. He suspected if he lived through the night he too would be terrified by what information Syntax and Argent had died for. 

* * *

Holy shit, screeched Jo, it's Kendar! She looked around in wide eyed fear as she searched for a way out. Dominic knew she'd have one, she always did. The Corax never entered a room without planning at least three escape routes. The roof, we can use the roof, yelled Jo desperately.

The ronin's voice carried sharply over the mad warbles of the Black Spirals as he leaped up onto a bank of computers and from there onto the roof. Charlie and the others quickly followed after him, all of them seeking to escape the trap. But Dominic waited as the dark shadows with red glowing eyes circled in around him. He knew the others would need someone to buy them time to get away. His own mouth split into a wicked grin as he watched the red eyed shadows come. He pulled open his coat, the black material swinging out as he pulled forth Bonespur. The silvery gleam of his klaive casting an eerie and pale glow across his face.

Who dares to face me? Dominic's eyes narrowed as he looked at the shadowy face of the figure in the doorway. Glowing yellow eyes met his stare evenly as a fang filled mouth slowly grinned. Dominic tensed in readiness. Then suddenly another figure sprang from the darkness to land in front of him.

I am Wyrm-mate, Ahroun of The Hive and I shall taste your blood, Render! There was a sudden growl from behind him and Wyrm-mate went stiff as he twisted his head around. A clenched fist smashed hard into his face, Dominic heard the crunching of bone as the Dancer was hurled back into a row of speakers. Kendar slowly turned back to look at Dominic, his yellow eyes gleaming. He snarled low in his throat, a message to the other Black Spirals to stay out of this fight. The dark shapes hissed as they fell back, circling along the walls and waiting.

I am Kendar, the Head Collector. You are he who rends the darkness, you are Dominic. Let us see if you are half of what you claim. Kendar tore open his coat and reached inside. He pulled forth a five foot long sword from within the dark recesses. The thick blade was covered with horrible carvings of screaming faces. Each of the faces' lips were sharpened to razor edges, and their mouths were filled with dagger-like teeth. The jagged edges of the blade gleamed dully, but despite the dirt it was obvious that the edge itself was kept razor sharp.

Kendar hefted the heavy blade with a grunt as he transformed. Soon he held the blade almost casually in one clawed hand. His massive crinos form stood around ten feet tall, however his hunched posture made it hard to be sure. His leathery hide was devoid of any fur, except for wiry tufts on his pointed ears. His grayish-black flesh was covered with many old and jagged scars. Disgusting green poison dripped from his maw as he snarled. Dominic raised Bonespur, the rune of duty gleaming brightly as he transformed. Black fur sprouted across his body, two white streaks shot down his back and a tuft of white burst across his chest as his body grew into full battle form. He charged forward with a loud roar.

Now you die, Render, bellowed Kendar as he strode forward and swung his blade about in a sweeping blow. Dominic was forced to come to a standstill and spring back to avoid the stroke. There was a haunting howl as the blade cut through the air. It almost seemed as though each of the morbid faces carved on the blade was screeching in pain and suffering. Kendar quickly reversed his swing and cut down and across again, forcing Dominic to continue to retreat. He snarled in annoyance as Kendar repeated the deadly pattern, that of a figure eight, with powerful swings of his blade. It was a simple technique, but it left few methods of piercing its defenses with his much shorter knife. Your head shall be mine!

Kendar suddenly lunged, his hulking body moving far quicker then seemed possible. Dominic dropped to a knee and narrowly avoided the sweep of the ghastly blade. But then a massive hand spun out and tore into his side. Picking Dominic up and tossing him like a leaf to flip through the air and over a row of monitors. He smashed down hard atop a computer console, the keyboard shattering under the impact. He snarled in pain as he rolled off the console to the floor, his entire right side having been easily torn open by Kendar's mighty blow.

Damn man, I wouldn't let him hit you again. That was literally bad. Dominic glanced over in surprise at the dark haired figure who crouched in the shadows under a table nearby.

He had thought her already gone. You have to get out of here. Now! He hissed urgently. A loud roar alerted Dominic to his danger. Kendar came leaping over the monitors, his blade held over his head. Dominic rolled to the side and only barely avoided the sweeping down stroke of the blade. It seemed to howl in frustration as it missed its target and tore a deep gash into the metal plated floor. Dominic spun onto his feet quickly and lunged in at Kendar's right side, hoping the trapped blade would leave the Dancer open to attack. 

However Kendar almost contemptuously heaved his blade up again, shredding apart the floor as he swung it up and across at Dominic. The Shadow lord quickly blocked, a shrieking spray of silver sparks burst brightly in the darkness as the two blades snarled against one another. Dominic felt his whole right arm go numb from the massive impact. His right side exploded into greater agony as torn muscles were tensed. Such was the power of the blow that despite blocking it he was tossed back, staggering to keep his footing.

Is this the Render? Is this the terror of the tribes? You are nothing! Kendar's gleaming yellow eyes stared in cold hatred at Dominic as he advanced. His blade wailed through the air as it once again danced in the sweeping figure eight pattern before him. Dominic quickly fell back, knowing that he couldn't possibly match the Dancer for power. Nor could he risk stepping into range of that swinging blade. He raised his klaive as he continued to retreat, his dark eyes searching for any sign of weakness from the powerful warrior. But the pattern was simple, deadly, and constant. Despite the obvious weight of the sword Kendar appeared to hold it as easily as Dominic did Bonespur. Kendar's deep and gravelly voice snarled above the constant screams of the faces on the blade. Come Render, show me why I should fear you. You fight as would a sniveling girl pup!

Dominic moved in a blur of black with streaks of white. He sprang up and pushed himself off a large metal cabinet. As he arced over Kendar's head he twisted to lash down. But Kendar moved just as quickly. Swinging up his huge left arm as though to swat a fly. Dominic's blade slashed along the thick scaly hide of the arm, but he didn't have enough leverage to cause anything but the smallest of scratches. Kendar's blow however rocketed into his side, smashing him to the ground and popping apart a rib. Dominic gasped for breath even as he heard the descending wail of Kendar's sword.

With a sudden surge of aching muscles he pushed himself backwards and rolled to his feet. Kendar's blade tore again into the floor, and just as quickly ripped out again in a powerful upswing. Dominic barely blocked in time, his whole arm shaking with the pain of the blow as he was again tossed back. This time to crash onto the ground and roll back to his feet again. Kendar chuckled as he again started his slow advance, his blade hissing before him in the figure eight pattern. Again Dominic was forced to retreat, giving way before the seemingly unstoppable juggernaut. 

Fall before me Render, beg for mercy and decry Gaia as the whore she is. Then I might allow you to live. Get on your knees!

I kneel to no one, man or wolf! 

Then prepare to die, Render! Dominic heard the hissing behind him and knew he was approaching the back wall where many Dancers lurked, watching this battle with eager eyes. If he backed into them this fight would be quickly over. He growled as he stopped retreating and held his klaive at the ready as he stood in a large clearing of shattered computer equipment. The towering and unstoppable beast continued in slowly and surely, his great blade howling and screaming in the darkness. His yellow eyes gleaming with the perceived victory.

The glowing eyes.

The sweeping blade.

The passing of the blade before that ferocious glare.

Dominic grinned coldly as he raised Bonespur and slowly advanced.

It was a complicated maneuver developed by a great Shadow Lord bladesmaster and known as The Shadow Blade Step' The principal was that every time a blade and arm were swept before the eyes there was a brief moment of time when the attacker was unable to see his opponent. A moving blind spot. 

If one was skilled, and gutsy, enough to attempt to move within this blind spot's shadow' as it swung, then it was possible to circle around your opponent unseen. It was a risky move at best, but when both blade and arm were thick, massive things, it was a risk that was worth a chance. Kendar advanced, his blade sweeping in the figure eight pattern.

To Kendar's shock Dominic seemed to just suddenly disappear. His great humming blade fell silent as he paused in dumbfounded confusion. Then he bellowed in agony as a klaive was jammed deep into his back. Dominic twisted Bonespur and tore it out to the side, slashing a deep gouge into Kendar's back. The fearsome warrior bawled in pain and dropped to his knees. Dominic sneered as he raised his blade to finish the job.

Kendar suddenly twisted around, his arm sweeping out to smash into Dominic's chest. The blow felt like the impact of a wrecking ball and sent Dominic flying back to crash down hard upon the floor. He coughed up a bit of blood as he snarled and pushed himself back to his feet. He heard a loud growl and looked up to see Kendar picking up a vast metal cabinet of machinery. The Black Spiral roared as he hurled the case at him. 

Dominic sprang backwards and sprawled to the ground as the heavy cabinet smashed onto the floor and shattered it apart. With a screeching of metal and splintering of wood, the cabinet tore through the floor and dropped into the warehouse below with a resounding crash. Kendar slumped back, his hand clutching at the wound on his back, thick gouts of blood spurting from it to splatter upon the floor. His yellow eyes narrowed in pure hatred as he issued a low growl. Suddenly the hissing of the other Dancers fell silent as they started to close in.

Come on then, sneered Dominic as he raised Bonespur and bared his fangs. Who wishes to be the first? Who dares face the Render! His cries were suddenly cut off as Jo sprang out from under her hiding place with a shout. In the same instant the entire darkened room was suddenly flooded with a bright glare of light. The Dancers howled in pain, their hands reaching up to cover their pained eyes. Dominic snarled in frustration as he squinted against the flaring light. Then a slim body slammed into him, knocking him slightly off balance. He took a few steps forward to steady himself, and suddenly realized his error as he plunged down the hole made by the cabinet. He landed with a crash, Jo atop him.

C'mon, we have to get out of here! She scrambled to her feet and motioned towards the front door. Above him he heard the angered cries of the Dancers still blinded by the light. Behind him more of the dark creatures came through a shattered hole in the wall. Jo clutched to him tightly and pulled at his arm. Dominic looked one last time at the hole above him and snarled in frustration.

Come then! He grabbed Jo by the back of her jacket and easily lifted her onto his shoulder as he turned and sprang for the door. They burst out into the darkened alley, Dominic quickly leaping upward to a nearby rooftop. He sprinted along quickly, occasionally dropping again to street level before leaping once more to a roof. Behind him he heard the mad howls of the Dancers as they gave chase. 

* * *

Dominic sank slowly to the ground and sat down with a soft grunt. The chase had been a near thing, but he had still had a few tricks up his sleeves. It would take the Spirals some time yet to track him and Josephine down. He rested his head against the wall of the alley and breathed in the tangy stench of rusting metal. Jo stood nearby, leaning against a rusted barrel and looking around at the gutted and abandoned factories around them. She scuffed her foot on the ground as she looked at a large piece of bent and twisted I-beam, then glanced at him. 

You were going to stay, weren't you, said Jo quietly, you weren't planning on leaving. He opened his eyes slightly and looked over at her, certain that she could read the traces of guilt on his face. Oh man, what's with this whole tragic hero thing you have going? Why is it you Garou think it's so great to die in a hopeless battle? I liked you better when you were younger and stupider, literally.

Which part is literal. That you liked me better, or that I was stupid?

Der, stupid-der! It makes a difference y'know. She shoved her hands in her pockets and crouched down to rest on her haunches. She tilted her head forward and looked at him with a frown. The posture making her look eerily bird-like. I think I know what the problem is, she finally said. Slowly he turned to look over at her, her pale face was drawn and worried. But it annoyed him that she thought she knew him so well.

Why is that? Not all of Gaia's secrets are revealed to the Corax, after all.

No. But I got it from a dead Dancer's eye, and that's literally as good as sworn testimony for a Corax. Dominic frowned, suddenly wondering what it was she did know. Well aware that Jo had a way of finding out things you'd have sworn she couldn't even suspect. Jo leaned in slightly, her next words whispered with a hint of fear. Almost as though she wished she was wrong. It's about The Pit isn't it? That thing Syntax found. Dominic looked over at her, she nodded slightly, seeing the truth in his eyes. He sighed and turned away. She looked at him intently, dark eyes alert. What's the story?

It's a ritual. A new ritual

What for? I thought we ripped that place up good last time. She frowned as she thought things over. Even the ooze was messed up, there should be nothing there for them to use.

Don't you remember the chemical in the Allied factory? Jo paused, her eyes twitching about as she recalled the strange green liquid. Its pungent smell. Its acidic vapors. But mostly its powerful mutation effects on the banes who had fallen into it. She looked up at him fearfully, understanding dawning on her. he nodded. They're going to restore the energy of The Pit by re-infusing it with fresh waste. Waste they will pump in from above at the height of the ritual.

But why? The Maw was ruined. Quentin destroyed Tyranthraxus. Why do they need the energy of The Pit? Dominic slowly reached under his coat and pulled out the papers. He flipped them open to show a diagram of The Maw temple as it would appear for the ritual to be performed under the new moon. Laying at the center point was a large black crystal.

Apparently we didn't succeed as we thought we had. They recovered the crystal. They are going to try it all again. They are going to resurrect Tyranthraxus, The Corrupter of Souls. 


	12. The Eye of The Storm

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit  


Chapter 11: The Eye of The Storm  


Kendar leaned against his blade as Flea-bitten worked at his wound. The Theurge clucked his tongue a few times as his hands started to glow with a sickly green radiation. Bile-of-Black returned from his hunt of Dominic, he shook his head slowly. The Shadow Lord had been moving so as to throw off trackers, finding him would take too long. Kendar frowned, and then snarled slightly as Flea-bitten pressed his glowing hand against his wound. There was a sizzling noise as the radiation burned away the silver taint and sealed the wound.

Mine all got away, I have trackers working on it. Kendar glanced up at the voluptuous figure in a worn leather jacket who called to him through one of the holes in the ceiling. Gorefist dropped lightly off the edge and landed amongst some of the shattered machinery of the room. Her good eye squinted in the unnatural and bright glow of the sunlight that filled the area. He noted the bloodstains on her hands and the slight limp in her usually sensuous walk. A couple injuries, and three dead. We didn't claim a single kill, she grumbled. Around her the other Dancers all hissed in soft agreement, though they quickly fell silent as Kendar glanced towards them.

It will not matter, growled Kendar, soon the great master Tyranthraxus shall again rise forth from The Pits to lead us to glory. What difference can these six make?

What difference did the eight make, chirped Flea-bitten as he pulled back his hands. Gorefist turned towards him and snarled, the Theurge quickly fell back. She walked over to Kendar and ran one of her soft hands over his hard, leathery, flesh.

We could continue the hunt. She grinned eagerly at the thought, the corners of her mouth lifting. The action making the livid scars across the left side of her face twist and contort into more horrid patterns. One more chance is all we would need to finish them.

No. It is no longer a concern. Tomorrow night shall bring the reawakening. We shall be needed for the ritual. Let Dominic believe himself strong. Let them have their victory of fleeing like scalded dogs. We shall soon possess this entire city and they shall all be ours to kill. He raised his blade and swirled it slightly, the haunting wail drawing the attention of all the Dancers in the area. We return to The Hive! The time of the ritual has arrived and soon all of Gaia's servants shall know our might!

Gorefist's voice made him pause in his departure. She motioned around her at the vast warehouse. What of this place? Kendar's lips peeled back from his fanged maw as he eyed the still blinking lights of the damaged nest of the Weaver.

It is a place that strengthens our foesburn it.

* * *

Smoke filled the sky as the Dancers poured out of the warehouse and down the alley. Their mad yipping cries and yells echoing eerily in the darkness as they abandoned the burning structure. The flames danced skyward. Bright streaks of amber and red against the black sky. The Dancers then rushed off, looking to flee the city to the north, abandoning their hunt for the Garou. On a nearby rooftop two figures watched it happen. They heard the distant wail of fire engines. They watched the last of the dark shapes disappear into the narrow back streets.

sighed Lord Cruss, that's all you need to see.

I told you, finders keepers! Cruss glanced over at Puck, who sat happily watching through the spyglass in her hands. He just shook his head and smirked at her.

You can have it for all I care. He pulled his black cloak in around himself as he turned away. I've been up for twenty-four hours, I'm just happy to get away from you and go home to bed. Farewell Puck, I wish I could say it has been a pleasure.

I really liked having the spyglass this time around, said Puck quickly. Cruss only half listened as he walked across the roof towards the fire escape. He fully intended to order his servants to allow nothing to wake him until sometime next week. He wondered how long away from Puck it would take for his throbbing headache to pass. He noted that she still had yet to shut up. After all, with you hogging it back when they attacked the apartment I didn't get a chance to read their lips.

Mmmm, that's nice. He reached out for the railing of the fire escape when suddenly a small silvery disk collided with his face. Cruss snarled in irritation as his hand snapped out to grab the missile before it could drop. He looked down at the tiddlywink with bloodshot eyes and frowned deeply. His fingers slowly closed around it as he squeezed his hand into a tight fist and turned around. You want me to kill you, is that it?

I want you to ask me what they were talking about, said Puck with a grim face. Cruss stood silently for a few moments. Unsure how to react to Puck acting serious. Finally he shook his head and figured it was just lack of sleep making him delusional. He flicked the tiddlywink back at her and turned around to leave. 

I don't care.

They plan to awaken an evil monster and destroy the city! Cruss paused. He glanced over his shoulder at her. Her face remained in a serious cast, her gaze steady.

Are you serious?

Do griffins eat horses? She hopped to her feet and walked over to him, her normally dancing eyes now calm and steely hard. If this ritual happens a bunch of very bad things will befall every innocent person in this city. I don't know about you, but that sort of thing bothers me. So here's what we're going to do. I'll follow them, and figure out where they're going. You go back to the freehold and alert the nobles. Gather everyone you can and meet me in the glade to the north of town where the childlings like to have picnics. I'll be there at sunset.

Cruss could only nod in flabbergasted surprise. Somehow Puck seemed to have transformed into a capable and dynamic leader. Her swirling colored eyes seemed to have grown deeper, containing in their depths an inner fire. Her voice was no longer musically child-like, but instead the music had become harder, more forceful. She nodded back to him and patted his side as she quickly turned and ran behind a large AC unit. As soon as she was out of sight Cruss seemed to return to his senses, why was he listening to her? It was a mad plan. Utterly mad. She could be found and killed, or worse. And there was little guarantee a group of Kithian could do anything to stop the Spirals.

Hold on Puck, he muttered as he stormed over to the AC unit. I think maybe both- Suddenly a peacock sprang out from behind the AC and landed upon it. The peacock's wide tail flared out around it in a wild pattern of blue, green, gold, and shades of purple. It cocked its head as its bright eyes peered at him over its blue beak. Cruss sighed and shook his head. Very well, get going or you'll lose them.

The peacock let loose a little warble of joy as it turned to face after the Spirals. The plump bird seemed to take a few deep breaths as it eyed the edge of the roof. Then it started forward with a waddling gait, its wide wings held out to balance itself as it leaped off the AC unit and started to flap madly. Cruss stood quietly as he watched the wildly fluttering and ungainly bird slowly coast out across the city after the Spirals. He shook his head as he placed his hands on his hips. As his hands met his waist he felt a bulge and quickly looked down. He smiled slightly as he pulled out his spyglass from where she had returned it.

Utterly mad, he sighed with a slight chuckle as he turned to head for the freehold. He'd have to move fast and talk quicker if anything was to be accomplished. The nobles were not in the habit of making quick decisions. He could only hope Puck knew what she was doing. But, she had seemed to have grown serious then, to put aside random foolishness. Perhaps he had somehow misjudged her. Perhaps the idiocy was all an act to hide her true cunning nature. He reached for his pouch to put away the spyglass. His eyes narrowed as he clutched at the empty spot on his belt where his pouch had been but moments before. That little bitch!

* * *

Dominic stood in the darkened alley. Behind him Jo sat upon a bent I-beam that lay in a crumpled ruin against the wall. He finished writing out his instructions on the papers and nodded to himself as he read them over again. He tilted his head back, feeling a constricting in his throat as he transformed his vocal cords into the throat box of a wolf. He howled up into the night sky. Jo listening intently to the wolfish howls.

Hear me king of the night, master of intrigue, lord of all that is hidden in darkness. I call to you Thunder, I, your humble servant. Give unto me of your power that I might use it to crush those who oppose me in your name. If you do not, I shall crush them anyway, yet learn to oppose you in my power.

You Shadow Lords really have an interesting relationship with the spirits, don't you, she asked with a smirk. Dominic glanced over at her as he allowed his vocal chords to return to normal.

It is the way to get things done. Thunder respects strength and will. Even the other tribes negotiate from positions of strength. It is the best way. Jo shook her head at his comment and rolled her eyes. Dominic crossed his arms and frowned. How do the Corax do it then?

Have you ever just tried asking nicely? Jo suddenly paused as she felt the faint rustle of wings seem to brush across her insides. He's here, I suppose I should go. I'm better at stepping sideways then you. She hopped off the I-beam and reached out her hand to Dominic. He handed her the note and motioned to a nearby broken sheet of glass he had polished up.

Hurry, we need to get moving soon.

Yeah, yeah, she muttered as she turned and looked deep into the reflective surface of the glass. Her image looked back at her, slightly silvery in shade due to the sheen of the glass. She looked not at her reflection, but choose to look as her reflection, peering outwards. She felt the slight sense of vertigo that always followed her when she stepped sideways, and then she was the reflection. She stood in the silvery world of the Penumbra. Dominic could be faintly seen, a scowl of angry impatience upon his face. Now that she was sure he couldn't see her Jo sneered back at him. What am I, your errand boy? You're lucky I stick with you despite your oversized ego and your undersized di-

Jo bunched her shoulders in surprise as she half jumped, and half spun around at the loud caw. Perched upon the ghostly remains of one of the trees that had been chopped down to build the factories sat a large black crow. The bird was sleek and muscular, its black eyes glinted with a distant reflection of lightning deep within the dark recesses. Its sharp and powerful beak glinted dully in the dim moonlight as it glared down at her. Jo let out a sigh of relief. Jeez, you stormcrows need to learn to relax a little.

Jo quickly raised her arms to ward back the stormcrow. Its eyes glared menacingly at her as it slowly furled its wide black wings in around itself. No need to get worked up. I just came to ask you to do a little favor for-

Again the large black wings snapped out as the spirit turned to lift into the sky. 

No? Wait a damn minute! The stormcrow flapped its wings once, there was a small thunderclap and a powerful gust of wind that caused Jo to stagger back. The black bird rose effortlessly into the sky. Of all the stupid, muttered Jo as she watched the spirit rise. Hey! If you leave, Dominic will kick your ass! Literally kick it all over! The stormcrow paused as it glared down at her. Jo sighed and pulled out the letter. He orders you to take this to Charlie Blackmuzzle', Galliard of the Get of Fenris. He'll be in this city somewhere. If you don't Dominic will kick your ass! Jo paused and watched the silently hovering stormcrow, as though it still wasn't sure, she snarled and shook the note violently towards it. 

Order? Threat? Thunder fears him not! Its cry was like a rumble of a thunderclap, Jo felt her hair whipped about in the violent wind caused by the crow's angry flapping. Yet Thunder knows his cause. His plan is well chosen. Thunder shall aid him in his needful weakness! There was a sharp crack of noise as the stormcrow dove in a black blur. Jo jerked her hand back in fear as its sharp beak snapped closed around the letter and tore it from her grasp. The bird again roared into the night, its loud cries echoing back to her. Tell him! Tell him we aid his weakness!!!

spat Jo emphatically as she took a step backwards. The air rippled around her like a disturbed pool of liquid. She stepped through the ripple, and reappeared in the alley next to Dominic. She glanced up and nodded. It took the note. Now can we get out of here?

Dominic turned and shifted forms, his body shrinking down to a rough black furred wolf with a tufted white belly and ears. He snarled as he turned and sprinted down the alley on all fours. Jo also shifted, becoming yet again a sleek raven as she soared after him.

* * *

The Black Spiral Dancers descended through the winding passageways of stone and steel. Their lair deep within the sewers surrounding them with the usual comforting smells and sounds. Kendar walked along slowly, his eyes slightly downcast. He had suffered a costly defeat against Dominic. He would have to watch for challengers to his position now. Gorefist more then likely would test him out, she desired the position but still knew he was strong. Of more possible danger were some of the younger and more ambitious leaders. Like young Stinkface, who had partly commanded the attack on the Glass Walker, and who had successfully defeated Pugdog in single combat. Already Kendar had heard some of the others muttering about the battle prowess of the young warrior. A pup who had failed to best a faerie in his first hunt!

I hear stories of a battle with Dominic, and of a defeat of the great Kendar. The whispered words hissed almost into his ear. Kendar snarled as he spun around to look upon Endelon. The assassin's black robes were drawn up around him, his fanged maw twisted into a smirking grin. But his deep blue eyes just watched Kendar carefully. Is this all true?

It is, Kendar snorted in annoyance. He knew admitting the loss to Endelon was no danger. Though amongst the most capable of the tribe, Kendar knew his old friend didn't desire any type of leadership. He was more canny then I suspected, but it was only by a trick he bested me. If we meet again I shall take great joy in ripping him apart like the insect he is. Endelon only nodded his head in acceptance of the words. As he shifted Kendar noted the slight figure standing behind him, he grunted in curiosity. Who is that? I know her not!

Be at ease great warrior, I am a friend. The woman glided forward easily, her movements fluid and as flawless as her features. Kendar felt a not so subtle rumble course through him as he eyed her over. The firm swell of the breasts against the ragged blue dress. The gentle curve of her shapely legs. The exotic cast of her face from the long white hair that swept around it. Her eyes met his for an instant, a deep gleam of interest and acceptance within their bewitching depths.

She aided me in the attack of the Glass Walker. Fer-guath says she is a gift' from the master. She is here to help make sure the ritual goes as planned.

A gift? Kendar growled in eager anticipation as he grinned at her. And just what is this gift for besides watching over a ritual or two? Kendar thought he saw Endelon shift slightly at the comment, the assassin's eyes narrowing in anger. But he suspected his friend was only showing his distaste for the whole mating issue again. He almost laughed, how sad to be so skilled at so much, yet be unwilling or unable to find pleasure in a vision such as this. But Kendar thought it was just as well. After all, if Endelon had been interested in that sort of thing he would have had first sight claim on her.

You think too highly of me lord, she said with a slight nod of her head. Her wild white hair cascading across her smiling face. Kendar snarled as he reached out and grabbed at her delicate seeming wrist. Perhaps he had found a good way to take his mind off his troubles.

Come wench. I will tell you of the battle against Dominic and you can speak of the slaying of Argent. My chamber is this way. He dragged at her arm, obligating her to follow him down a curving side passage. A few moments later a dark shadow trailed after them.

A shadow with dead, angry eyes.

* * *

Dawn.

Charlie sat on the park bench in his tattered slacks and watched the sun slowly climb over the horizon. The golden orb rose majestically up, washing the city in its bright aureate glow. Charlie closed his eyes as he allowed the warmth to flow over him. Letting it wash him of the pains and fears of the dark night. They had run far and fast, leaving the horrified motorists behind them. Finally they had found this park, a small bastion of peace and quietude within the bustle of the city. They had all collapsed gratefully within the protective cover of a ring of pine trees.

There was a slight yelp of greeting as Leona slipped from behind the trees and out into the park. The light of the sun struck her soft tawny fur and seemed to transform it into a mantle of gold. She leapt lightly onto the bench and lay her head upon his lap. Her fur bristling against the bare skin of his belly.

So how are you feeling Leona, he asked softly. She hunched her shoulders slightly in a wolfish shrug. He grinned and looked back at the city. The morning mist still hung in tangled tendrils through the air, the droplets of moisture catching the light and twinkling like small stars. You know, I think the Glass Walkers may be right. Leona lifted her head sharply from his lap and looked at him oddly. He grinned. Look at it, she turned to regard the city, it's beautiful in its own way. It is still a part of Gaia if not of the Wyld. He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, his fingers catching at the rough stubble of beard now forming on his chin after two days on the move. He smiled at Leona as he rubbed his chin. Actually, todayI think is the most beautiful day I've ever seen.

That's stupid, growled Leona, Charlie easily understanding her wolf-speak. You almost die last day. You maybe die soon. Why that make day beautiful?

That's exactly the reason, Charlie said fervently. Leona twisted her head about as she seemed to consider the concept. Charlie sighed slightly, the lupus were not known for their philosophers. It's like, he started, struggling for words, it's like I didn't appreciate it. Gaia's splendor. But then, when I almost died half a dozen times these past few days. Itit sorta put it all in perspective. So I could enjoy it.

Last week had better sunrise, barked Leona quickly. She turned to stare at his eyes, arguing the point with a low growl. I say it much better for pretty day.

You're missing the point, snapped Charlie as he met her gaze. Look, don't you ever just feel glad to be alive? Just happy to have what you have. Aren't you just glad you're here this morning to appreciate the beauty of the sunrise?

Rather have meat, grunted Leona with another wolfish shrug. She stared at him a bit longer and then slowly turned away. Pretty is stupid, pretty stupid.

Forget about it, grumbled Charlie as he turned back to watch the rise of the sun. Leona contentedly returned to resting her head on his lap, occasionally nuzzling against his belly.

At least now you not useless pup.

Huh? Where the hell did that come from?

Better that you're strong wolf then weak human. Leona turned and hopped off him then. Charlie was about to demand to know what she was blabbering about until he spotted the ronin and Snapback also emerging from the trees. The ronin still wore his coat, though the tough material now had many tears and jagged rips in it. His worn brown pants were also splattered with a few dried brown patches of blood. Snapback, despite his hunch, seemed the most presentable of them all. His jeans and shirt still clean and in good repair.

Aww, little Leona was cuddling with the pup, grunted Snapback in his deep throated voice. Ain't that a Kodak moment? Leona bristled at his words and growled. Snapback sneered slightly at her, turning his steady gaze to lock with her eyes. Leona yipped a few times in frustration, but slowly twisted her face away, unable to match his stare. Charlie shook his head, Leona had to learn not to bother challenging the more powerful metis. She always ended up backing down, and always seemed to feel bad about it. Of course, he always backed down in stare challenges, so perhaps he wasn't the best judge.

So what are we going to do now, he asked as he turned to the ronin. He paused as he noted the drawn and tired look on the warrior's face, so different from the calm certainty of his gaze from last night. Then he had seemed so capable and deadly, now he just seemed beaten and worn. The ronin looked up slowly, apparently surprised they all seemed content to follow his lead.

This is not a good thingyou should all return to the caern for instructions from the elders. The ronin's head slowly dipped forward as he seemed to smirk at some private joke. I'm sure they'll know the right thing to do. 

What about you? The ronin hugged his box to himself gently, as though cradling a child. 

I'll head back home. This is not the way, this is not my place.

What wrong with red hair, snarled Leona in confusion. Snapback was also watching the ronin, a look of bewilderment on his narrow face. Charlie realized neither of them had dealt with the ronin before he had snapped out of his dispirited state. However now it seemed he had slid back down the slippery slope again and returned to the depths of his own self-loathing and despair. Even as he prepared to argue the point there was a sudden crack of thunder. Charlie paused in wonder, the thunder seeming strangely out of place in the peaceful dawn. Then the folded up piece of paper fell from the air and bounced off his shoulder.

What the heck, he muttered as he grabbed the note. What's this?

whispered the ronin darkly as he looked to the uninhabited sky. Has to be a message from Dominic, probably nothing but trouble. Charlie scowled at the ronin's grim predictions as he opened the note. He read it over, as he did he felt the strength flee his arms, and the color drain from his face. He shook his head slowly, as though he could deny the words.

What is it, growled Snapback anxiously. Leona whined as she wagged her tail and watched him. The ronin simply looked at Charlie's face and nodded knowingly.

It's the plan, hissed Charlie. Dominic is telling us to flee back to the caern quickly. He's going to speak with the elders and convene a war party.

What do we hunt, snarled Leona.

Tyranthraxus, the Dancers are going to bring him back! Even the ronin seemed shocked by that news. Charlie looked up at them slowly. The tribes are going to have to stop the ritual again, and we have no time. The ritual starts tonight, and shall end at midnight.

The ronin slumped slightly, his face having gone ashen, his hand clutched at the scars on his neck. Leona whined again and twisted in agitated circles. Snapback grunted as he turned away.

We should get going then, it's a long way back to the caern.

Yeah, it is, muttered Charlie as he looked again at the note. Dominic will really have to move to get there, gather the warriors, and get back in time. Charlie looked back at the sunrise. Around them the city was slowly coming to life. Unaware that their world would come crashing down around them at midnight. Helpless, unknowing, with only Gaia's chosen to protect them. Charlie looked around at his frightened fellows and snarled. What's wrong? You think this is the end? I for one don't intend to give in.

You should, muttered the ronin, you have no idea. You may fight now, last a day or a week. But against the dark power

Damnit, stick with me, snarled Charlie as he reached down and grabbed the ronin's shoulder. There was a sudden snap of motion as the ronin lashed out for his wrist, but Charlie managed to barely twist out of the way. The missed move forced the ronin to stumble back to his feet as Charlie continued to snarl at him. It might be a fight for only a day or a week. But a week's worth of sun is better then nothing. Would you have me do nothing? Would you hand the Wyrm Gaia's heart? The ronin turned away, apparently unable to stand the words. I don't know about you, but I plan to fight this, and not just by running back to the caern. I plan to go to The Pit

Leona's yipping cry sounded fearful and worried. 

Think about it. Organizing the tribes could take Dominic too long, and you said Argent was worried about the council. They might be slow to respond. It might not work! The ronin slowly turned to look at him, his features shifting to shock as he caught onto Charlie's plan. Someone needs to go there and make sure. See if they can slow things down, just in case.

Boy, are you mad, snarled Snapback as he spun around. We were ordered back to the caern, that's where we shall go!

Charlie spat out the word loudly as he whirled about and glared at Snapback. Don't you see? We have to do everything we can to help. Dominic won't be able to sway the council any quicker whether we are there or not. We'd be no help, we wouldn't matter. But if we go there, if we can slow the Spirals even ten minutesthen we'd make a difference!

You are a pup. Leona is barely better. And he, Snapback waved derisively at the ronin, he is some disgraced urrah. What do you propose we do? Take on all the Black Spirals ourselves? You are a fool! Snapback glared back into Charlie's eyes, the two men locking their angry stares. 

The stare down; oldest and surest method of dominance within the pack. Charlie had never truly won one of the contests. Snapback had bested many. His fearsome appearance and victories in battle seeming to add weight and power to his dark gaze. He snarled slightly, bright teeth bared and ready to tear into any who opposed him. Charlie met Snapback's eyes easily, far easier then he could have imagined possible. It seemed not so great a test after all he had been through with Dominic and Jo. 

All of the world seemed to slip away. All that was left was watching those angry eyes across from him. Ready to fight, ready to destroy. Charlie felt an ancient and primal call flow through him as he looked at those eyes. In that instant he knew, clearer then he ever had before. He knew who he was, and he knew what he was doing. He was Garou, and he was defending Gaia. Charlie's eyes seemed to burn with this realization. 

Then, his face twisting in surprised frustration, Snapback took a step backand glanced away. Very well, we go. Charlie was pack alpha now. But you are still a fool boy, Snapback sneered. None here know the way to The Pit, how will you find it?

The tales, stuttered Charlie, unprepared for that question. The songs do mention some of

Snapback turned his back, you have no idea, we cannot go, we know not the way.

No, you don't. They all turned at the voice, a voice once more full of power and control. The ronin stood with his back to them as he watched the rising sun, his eyes narrowed and hard, his hair dancing about his face on the brisk morning wind. But I do, I remember the paths into the heart of darkness. I have tried to forget them, tried so hard He turned towards them, his eyes sparkling with the golden fire of the sun. But that is not the way. Evil triumphs His voice faded off as he seemed to look within himself, and not at them. No, it won't! I know the way. He looked back at them as he held out a hand. Are you brave enough to walk that path with me once more? 


	13. Nightmares of the Past

Wow, chapter twelve is now up. In case you care the story is sixteen chapters long, which means this is almost the end. This chapter is also the long awaited story of why the ronin was banished from the tribes, as told by the ronin himself. Secondly, I had quite a bit of fun in this chapter actually expanding on Endelon's character in some small ways. I think he's a very interesting villain with a host of problems and foibles all his own. I hope you enjoy what small nuggets I managed to slip in. Also, this chapter will have a lot of dream imagry, which I find is hard to write and wouldn't mind hearing opinions on. In any case, join the heroes as they explore the nightmares of the past  


  
Fall of The Heroes: A Tale of Detroit  


Chapter 12: Nightmares of the Past  


You are mine. His voice was thick and ragged. Slurred with the burning desire that was coursing through him. Kendar stumbled forward, his steps clumsy and ungainly. She slowly fell back before him. That bewitching smile on her face as she watched him come. A smile that should not be for Kendar. A smile that was his, and his alone.

Endelon's dark blue eye blinked slowly as he withdrew his face from the edge of the worn iron doorway. He took a few steps back and leaned against the rough hewn stone wall of the tunnel. He could hear them now. Kendar's deep and rumbling grunts and groans of inept and crude lust. Her own soft and gentle whispers. How could she stand it? How could she allow it? She was not so simple as to be content with Kendar's crude ministrations.

Endelon turned away and walked silently down the tunnel, his long black robes drawn in about himself. He could feel the white hot stabs of pain from his klaives as they pressed against his skin. They sensed his anger, they felt his desire. Desire for blood, desire for her. Endelon snarled as he reached the doorway to his own chambers and slipped within them. The small stone room was bare of all adornments beside a carefully folded blanket and a set of whetstones for his weapons.

Those blades now hummed as his robes billowed open and they spun into his hands. Black cloth snapped in the air as his body twisted and lashed out in a fast and furious orchestra of deadly motion. The silver blades slashed through the air, crackling trails of fire hissing out behind them. He moved with grace, yet it was grace tinged with unrestrained rage. The blows were both beautifully elegant and murderously brutal. The trailing lines of fire drew pictures in the air, images and drawings of death.

He had ever spurned the feeling and desires of the flesh. Such acts had been beneath him. He had been the small one. The unhealthy one. The one that all the elders had known would die before his fifth year. But he hadn't, he had survived and he had grown deadly. He couldn't be stronger, so he had been smarter, quicker, more deadly, more cunning. Each time he had entered battle with one of his fellow Dancers he had been allowed no mistakes, he had to kill them without allowing them to strike him, for they had ever been stronger and more powerful. Even one error would have slain him, yet he had survived. He had been perfect.

Silver fragments coated in green fire slashed through the darkness. His robes billowing and twisting around him as he spun through the motions. He was Endelon. He was the Master Assassin. When he walked through the tunnels of The Hive the others averted their gaze and slunk out of his path. His dark blue eyes reflected the bright green flashes of fire. His body slowly started to be coated in a thin sheen of sweat as he continued his practice. Time blurred to him, all that was clear was the hard practice that had molded his skills into deadly perfection.

But then she had come. The white hair, the woman of mystery, she who served the master. She had looked him in the eyes and laughed. She had moved with deadly grace and precision in her attacks. Yet she had seemed so delicate too. Her strangely pale skin and stark white hair giving her the appearance of sickness. The appearance that she too had been an unhealthy one. She was so deadly, so delicate, so desirable. The blades snapped out in one final double lunge, his mouth opening in a strangled cry of despair as he held the blades frozen and silent before him.

Most impressive. A soft clapping sound came from behind him. Her voice a delicate and cool breeze against his fevered and sweating body. His blades flashed once more as they quickly disappeared beneath his robes. He turned around to look at her. Her pale porcelain features were now dirtied and smudged with sweat and grim. Her luxurious hair was in a wild mass of disarray, as though someone had been pulling heavily upon it. Her worn and bloodied dress was now even more torn and ragged. Strips of tantalizingly bare flesh now visible beneath the shredded patches of tattered material.

I thought you were with Kendar, said Endelon softly as he lowered his head slightly. The shadows of his hood falling over his face and concealing all but his glinting blue eyes.

I was, she replied softly as she gently stepped into his room and looked around it. Her wide hazel-green eyes slowly surveying the bare walls and floor. Her lips crinkled up into an amused smile. But that was two hours ago, even Lord Kendar has his limits. She looked up at him coyly through her wild white hair. He darkly noted the bruises around her delicate white neck. I must say your room is much lessextravagant then his.

It holds what I need, allowed Endelon coldly. His eyes watching her carefully as she wandered around the room, one of her hands brushing along the wall. She continued her circuit of the room till she reached where he stood against the stone. Her hand shifted from wall to his chest, small fingers brushing along the ragged cloth of his robes. He looked down at her, his dark eyes dangerous. She looked back, a small smile dancing across her lips.

Tell me, she breathed softly, what is it you're thinking?

Lord Endelon! At the cry Endelon's head snapped to the side to glare at the door. Flea-bitten shoved his mangy face into the room, his wild gray hair splayed up around his filthy and wide-eyed face. Lord Fer-guath wishes you to move the captive to the temple. The ritual is almost ready.

Of course, hissed Endelon as he quickly slipped past the Theurge and back into the winding tunnels of the Hive. Flea-bitten fell into step behind him, a wide grin on his palsied face. But Endelon also barely heard the silent footfalls of her, as she too followed.

* * *

How is this the way to The Pit? Have you lost your fire already? Snapback's voice was angry and held a tinge of some other emotion to it that Leona couldn't place. Not that she didn't somewhat agree with him, the ronin had claimed they were going to The Pit. Instead he had brought them to this apartment. Leona sniffed the stale and musty air with disgust. This was a bad place, a place of despair and loss. She didn't like it, not in the least. She glanced at the ronin curiously, Charlie had said this was where the ronin had lived. She couldn't imagine the horror of dwelling in this place for any length of time. Tell me, snorted Snapback, are you so addled with Harano you have forgotten even your past glories?

The Pit is more then just a place, said the ronin softly as he brushed aside empty bottles and beer cans to clear a spot in the middle of the floor. It is darkness given form. If you go there unprepared then the only thing you shall find is death.

So this is to prepare us, asked Charlie as he walked over to stand by the ronin. Snapback crossed his arms with a scowl as he lurked in the doorway. Leona nervously took a few steps into the room and watched as the ronin lay his wooden case out in front of him.

Yes, this is to prepare The ronin's hands lightly caressed the lid of the box, his eyes taking a far off look. Come, join me in the circle. He motioned to the area around him. Charlie quickly sat down to the ronin's right and looked expectantly to the others. Leona's ears flattened against her head as she slowly padded forward and sat to the ronin's left. Snapback growled in the back of his throat as he grudgingly took the last spot. Now, join your hands.

Leona's hackles raised slightly in annoyance. With a snarl she forced herself to accept the humming murmur that dwelled on the edges of her perception. Allowed herself to feel the words and the thoughts of the humans. Her fine coat of tawny fur gave way to weak and unprotected pink flesh. Finely balanced muscles shifted to surround ungainly long bones as her legs twisted into arms. Her back stiffened and forced her up into a sitting posture as she assumed her homid form.

There are some blankets in the closet, managed Charlie as he nervously fidgeted.

Leona growled at him. Charlie shrugged and turned away from her, his eyes anxious and nervous. Leona sniffed in annoyance as she shook her head and allowed her wild mane of blonde hair to drape about her bare shoulders and chest. She reached out and took up Snapback's and the ronin's hands. Across from her Charlie did the same.

Now focus upon the wood grains of the box, said the ronin. Wait and look deep within them. Leona did so. Even as she started to watch a droplet of water fell from above and splashed upon the polished finish of the box. The droplets fall, like tears from above, intoned the ronin softly. They were our tears as we stood in the darkness alone

Leona felt as though all the light had suddenly fled the room. Even the box seemed to fade away into the shadows. All that was visible was the small puddle of water as another tiny droplet fell upon it. Leona watched the pool quake at the impact of the drop. The water shivered and shook in surprised pain at the impact. But then the pool would calm, grow bigger and larger for the gaining of the drop.

You see it, don't you? The ronin's voice sounded distant, as though he were speaking to them from some deep hole and wasn't sitting right next to her. Leona gripped tightly at his and Snapback's hands, feeling as though they were all that held her tethered safely from a fall into the eternal void around them. The water suffers from the joining, yet it is made stronger. So must you know the suffering. You will hurt to hold together, you will suffer for your loyalty. But know that only together can we succeed. We must not separate from the pool and become individual drops. We must not allow division!

There was a sudden flash of red before Leona's face. She jerked back in surprise as she felt a fine spray of mist hit her face. She could smell the heady aroma, it wasn't water, it was blood. She saw a white furred wolf spiraling away. Watched its frightened eyes as it spun through the air and faded into the void. Then the void seemed to take form, it shrank away to reveal that the void was the dark depths of two black eyes. Leona couldn't see the face, but could almost feel it sneering at her.

The beast known as Tyranthraxus is the Corrupter of Souls. He is trickery and deceit. He will lie and mislead you at every turn. The eyes seemed to melt away, or perhaps only grow larger. Again Leona was engulfed in the darkness. She heard distant cries and shouts, as though a great outcry was being raised. She saw a small, slim shape, a woman whose hair grew into great clouds of black feathers. She opened her mouth and screeched in frustration before being drowned beneath the swarming feathers. Only now the feathers seemed to shift, becoming shadowy and fanged visages of wolves. You must hold fast to yourself and your pack, only then can you survive.

A figure suddenly stood amongst the field of wolves. The shadows all seemed to draw away, leaving him alone in a darkness beyond shadow. His back was to her, and his shoulders hunched. The man's arms were caked in thick red blood that slowly dribbled down his hands and dripped from his fingers. The wolves seemed to creep back, their fur became tinged with the blood, the hair becoming a crimson carpet of gore. There was a flash of silver light as the Garou rune for duty flared into view. Leona squinted her eyes as she fought against the glare. She watched as the rune slowly reshaped itself, the silver flowing like water, into the rune of death. The scarlet wolves soared into the air, lashing around in a spinning storm. Their razor sharp teeth slashed and tore at the man, he howled in sorrow as he was buried beneath the swarming, snarling shapes.

The rune of death slowly melted again, forming a gleaming puddle that shined with an inner light. The blackness slowly seemed to withdraw as another splash of silver landed upon the drop, causing it to quiver and shake. Leona blinked her eyes and realized the drop was only the puddle upon the box. She looked up at Charlie and Snapback. Snapback's face was clouded and confused, he looked at the ronin through slit eyes. Charlie's face was drawn and flushed, he looked wide-eyed at the ronin.

What was that?

A warning about The Pit, a memory of things that once were and should never be again. He reached out and grabbed the box, silvered droplets of water raining off it as he picked it up from the floor. You are as ready as you shall ever be, we should go.

snarled Charlie as he rose. I want to know, and I don't want some evasive nothing for a reply. Who are you, and what do you know of The Pit?

the ronin slowly turned back to them, his face calm and unreadable. I have no name to give.

snapped Charlie as he rose. You know the other heroes well. You have secrets that even Jo doesn't like to talk about. But if we are to travel with you and be as one to succeed in the Pit then no secrets may be held from us. You know of the Pit as you know of many things. Tell me why! The ronin's head had sunk lower during Charlie's speech, yet now he glanced up, dark eyes glinting dangerously.

You want the truth? Is that it? The ronin smiled horridly as he looked Charlie in the eyes. I am he who is spoken of in whispers. I am the one meant to walk alone. I am The Eighth Hero of The Pit.

The forgotten hero, breathed Charlie in shock. The breaker of the circle and betrayer of the tribes? 

Leona felt an uneasy tingle at the base of her neck as she eyed the figure. She knew now why Argent had warned her of the ronin. He was The Eighth Hero. The hero who had fallen from his path and slain two of the other heroes during the battle of The Pit. He was the hated betrayer. An example of the darkness that others had to avoid within themselves. 

Why didn't you tell us, snarled Charlie angrily, you are not a Garou!

You never asked, said the ronin quietly. it felt good to help once againeven if only for a little while.

We shouldn't have had to ask! Dominic was right about you the entire time! Leona glanced up at Charlie in surprise, his face tight and red in anger. You are urrah, you are a fallen one, one of the Wyrm's own! Charlie stormed forward as he shouted. The ronin quietly stood his ground, meekly accepting Charlie's tirade. You act as though you have advice to give, as though you have honor? The poem, of course you wouldn't have wanted to hear the poem! I should have known Jo was up to something when she was so elusive! A ronin indeed, Charlie spat violently.

Jo told you that, asked the ronin softly.

snapped Charlie. She had me all thinking you were some great tragic warrior. Instead you're Charlie's face grew calmer, though his scowl didn't lessen in the least. His next words were quiet, yet spoken as though they were pure poison. He spoke the words of the poem, words of the final hero. The Eighth Hero, a wolf the Wyrm did tame. His skills of cowardice and fear, cast down in the darkness where friends lie slain. His actions and evil are cursed here, he is a wolf who no longer has a name.

To the ronin it looked like no harsher words could have been spoken. Leona watched, as with each syllable of the poem the ronin's face seemed to become slightly paler. She saw his hands slowly curl into fists. Spotted the muscles of his arms twitching with barely restrained urges to attack. Yet his eyes he kept on Charlie, as though he sought this punishment, as though he desired the hatred. Finally Charlie finished, his sneer slowly slipped away to just be replaced by the face of a boy who has had a dream broken.

Why what, asked the ronin calmly, even though his muscles remained tight and ready. Why didn't I tell you, or why did I do it?

This is what Dominic kept accusing you of. It was never made clear in the poem. What did you do, how did you betray them?

Will knowing make it easier for you, asked the ronin calmly. I doubt it, leave the past alone Charlie, let it stay buried. Leona hopped to her feet and crossed her arms across her bare chest as she snarled.

I thought we were supposed to trust each other.

That's right, Charlie said with a nod. Are you trying to be a separate drop of water? The ronin jerked his jaw slightly upward. His eyes seemed to flick up to look at the ceiling. His gaze lingered there, his eyes watching a drop fall, and looking intently at the small piece of water that was left behind afterwards.

Very well, I'll tell you the story. The true story of The Pit.

The ronin took a deep breath as he forced himself to enter once again into those passageways. To not forget, but to remember

* * *

The spirits grow uneasy, this is an evil place. Moros Argent swung his talisman spear before his eyes, the rune covered shaft glowing with a faint blue luminance as he scanned the area. Avoid the right passage, it leads only to death. We must go up, to the left passage.

The others listened to his words and then turned to Marn, the Galliard of the Get of Fenris who led their pack. His thick brown hair hung in coiled braids around his stern face. One of his thick hands rubbed along his chin, scratching at the wild brown whiskers there. Before them lay a carved entrance, with two possible paths. The entrance was an arch, formed from stone into the shape of two coiling serpents. Their scales inscribed with twisted and wild writings. The language of the Dark Litany, the writing of the Black Spiral Dancers.

You know what I think? We're trusting the spirits a little too much here, literally! They all turned to the slim shape who leaned nonchalantly against the wall. She pointed to the passageway. Look at where we are, now if-

You overstep yourself, Chatterbox, quickly cut in Quentin. The Theurge brushed aside his wavy black hair to clearly reveal his bright blue eyes. Old Graybeard, he indicated Marn, is alpha here, he makes the decisions. From where he had been lurking near the back Dominic stepped forward and lay a restraining hand on Jo's shoulder, cutting off her protest.

Relax Josephine, Quentin is right. You are not one of us. You have not a voice in the pack. The Corax muttered to herself as she slouched back against the wall. The others once more turned to Marn, who nodded and motioned to the left.

We trust the spirits. So saying he started forward once more, the others falling in behind him. The ronin brought up the rear, his keen senses alert and ready as he watched for any ambushes.

Are you ready then, Slash? The ronin glanced up at the slight laugh as Quentin spoke the words. Despite being a highly talented Theurge and a serious student of the mystical arts Quentin had an uncanny knack for flippancy at the worst of times. For instance, the lousy nicknames he had created for each of them. Quentin again brushed back his ever unruly black hair as he smirked. You seem tense, Slash, almost as if something were wrong.

We are in a bastion of the Wyrm, pointed out the ronin softly, it is thus wrong by its very nature. Suddenly he paused, his nose twitching at a sudden scent. His eyes narrowed as growled. Do you smell that?

Suddenly the very walls themselves seemed to attack. Large insect-like creatures whose exoskeletons resembled the black rock of the tunnel leapt from all sides to the attack. Beady green eyes gleamed in the darkness as barbed tails snapped and hissed in the air. The ronin fought in a blinding whirl of speed. His form shifting and changing like the wind as he twisted and danced amongst them, leaving a trail of death in his wake. Marn bellowed as he lead the push through the creatures, his mighty claws ripping a path.

Ahead could be seen the glow, the glow of The Pit. He pulled out his weapons, silvered claws that he strapped to his wrists. The three blades on each claw extending over his hand to create a deadly tool of death. The cold metal burning him even as it would burn his foes. They burst out upon a walkway of stone above the bubbling green lake that lay below. The eerie light filled the massive cavern, illuminating the Maw, the dark temple that rested above The Pit. Forms surged forth from the bubbling green morass. Twisted abominations impossible to describe and horrific to gaze upon. The beings of nightmare swarmed up onto the walkways and made to engulf the small band.

Here's where I take my leave, Slash, laughed Quentin as he raised his hands. The spirits suddenly swirled around him. Spirits of anger ripping at any that came too close, spirits of the wind lifting him into the air, spirits of stone protecting him from injury. Marn and Dominic rushed alongside him, the three cutting through the strange creature.

There was a squawk of surprise as Jo was suddenly batted aside by a collapsing body. Moros, the Silver Fang Theurge toppled back, a dozen black barbs embedded in his chest. The ronin snarled as he spun and leaped to the Theurge's side, his claws ripping through any of the beasts that got in his way. He fell to his knees next to the wounded Silver Fang and snarled in worry. Argent was looking at his own wounds, then turned to look fearfully up into the ronin's eyes.

I need to get out of here, I'm too weak now to aid Quentin with the ritual.

But can he do it alone? The ronin glanced warily back to the temple where Quentin was even now starting the ritual. I heard you two speak of it, the danger and strain

He shall have to, gasped Argent, his eyes swimming with pain and a touch of fear. I cannot go on! I have to get out of here! He shall have to do the best he can.

Get him to safety, snarled the ronin as he looked up at Jo. The thin Corax nodded timidly as she rushed to aid Moros. The ronin turned and sprinted along the pathway to aid in the defense of Quentin. The joking young Theurge now their last hope. Swarms of the pit pushed in around them, trying to crush their very souls. Marn, mighty Marn, his claws and fangs drenched in gore as he fought the hordes, stood proud, urging the others on to greater glory. Behind him crouched Quentin, protected from danger by the skilled Galliard. Quentin, his magic strong within him, prepared the ritual that would send the Black Crystal into oblivion. They had to protect him, and so he battled the hordes.

Beware, there is danger about! The ronin quickly ducked as the sleek white form sprang past his head to land amongst a fresh swarm of the creatures in a shower of gore. Snowflake, beautiful even coated in the blood of her slain foes, smiled at him as she sprang back from the angered beasts. Even as she did he sprang forward, meeting them even as they tried to pursue her. The creatures were caught off guard, and his claws tore deep into their unprotected flesh. Then he twisted away, and she was there once more, the last of the beasts falling to her perfectly timed assault.

They stood side to side as they held the walkway. They moved as one, each of their motions part of an intricate dance that only they knew. They flowed as water, becoming together more then they were apart. The creatures flailed wildly at them, but such clumsy attacks couldn't touch the perfection of his and Snowflake's style. As he struck she retreated, as he ducked she leapt in, as she slashed from the right he would bite the left. The beasts swarmed forward in a mad rage, and in a swarm they died.

Suddenly First-to-Find exploded, his body torn apart by a wave of darkness. Malise, the mad sorcerer had finally arrived. His dark magic spun about him as he tried to save his temple and his god. The dark creatures of the pit fell away before them. The ronin's senses swam with the battle, his eyes locked on Malise. He leapt towards the sorcerer. His claws hummed through the air as he sailed in for the kill. Malise laughed, his magic energies swirling about him. Suddenly a blur leapt up in front of him, blocking his path. A jaw opened and clamped down on his throat. He reacted without thinking, striking with blinding speed, his silver blades hissing in blurred streaks. Claws Flashed! A throat was torn! 

He fell back to the hard stone of the walkway. Blood gushed and flowed out of the mangled flesh of his neck. He hissed in pain as he grabbed at the brutal wound and tried to staunch the flow of the blood. He glanced over to his attacker, and his world crumbled around him. Snowflake lay upon the ground, a bloody gash along her ribs from where he had struck her. She glanced up at him weakly, her eyes brimming with confusion. Blood speckled her lips, his blood.

Malise howled as green flames crackled around his fingers. His hand snapped forward as a roiling wave of thundering green fire spun out to destroy him. The ronin kicked out with all the strength left to his body, his muscles straining as he shoved out against the stone. He twisted in midair, curling his body up and rolling away from the edges of the flame. The impact of the blast jarred him, the edges of his red fur were singed by the intense wave of heat. Stone cracked and split apart as the walkway shattered under the force of the magical assault.

He heard a weak cry of surprise. He twisted about in time to see her. A fragile shape of white fur caught in the edges of the blast, her body thrown back and over the edge. He roared in denial as he once more commanded his muscles to sudden action. He sprang forward, his body landing roughly upon jagged and superheated stone. His fur smoking and burning as flesh was scorched. But he ignored it all as he lunged half over the edge of the walkway, his eyes locked on the trailing arc of her hand. 

He reached out, his hand grasping only air as he stared down into fear filled eyes. But it was too late. Her small white body tumbled helplessly down through the air. Like a snowflake. And then she was gone. He howled in sorrow at the loss. 

He turned over weakly to look up at Malise. The mad sorcerer-priest floated in the air above him. Malise snarled as he raised his hands for the final strike. The ronin felt his body go limp and weak, his will to fight gone. Suddenly there was a loud squawk of outrage. Malise looked up in surprise as a black raven swept in towards him. It slammed hard into his gut, wings beating, claws scratching, beak tearing. He squealed in pain as dozens of deep gouges and cuts were ripped into his belly. He batted at the raven as he turned and quickly fled, the bird cawing violently as it pursued.

The ronin weakly sat up and turned towards The Maw. The steps of the broken temple ran slick with blood. Marn leaned against one of the toppled pillars, half of his face torn apart, blood leaking from the cavity that had once housed his eye. Dominic stood at the top of the steps, his once silver klaive now drenched in blood. He snarled in defiance at the beasts that still stumbled up the steps towards him. 

Suddenly there was a cry. Quentin's hair suddenly lifted around his head as though caught in a great breeze no other could feel. A blindingly bright light emanated from his hands as he raised them and pressed them against the Black Crystal. There was a thunderous clap and a wave of energy billowed forth from the temple and washed over the chamber. Where it touched the abominations they dissolved with cries of fury and loss. Dominic and Marn screamed in shock as they were blasted forth from the temple, their bodies crashing down hard to the ground.

The ronin staggered through the strange haze of the dissolved Wyrm creatures. He paused by Dominic, who groaned as he tired to pull himself back to his feet. The ronin went to aid him, but the Shadow Lord only snarled and shook him off. The ronin quickly turned away and rushed over to aid Quentin. The young Theurge lay collapsed on the floor before the Black Crystal. He was dangerously close to the deep pits that had been shattered in the floor during the conflict. The strange gem now seemed more like a dead piece of dark stone then the malevolent crystal they had come to destroy. The ronin quickly leaned down and pulled Quentin up and away from the precipice, the young man sighed as he regained his senses.

I did it, did you see? Quentin turned to glance at him, and the ronin felt his body freeze at the sight he saw. Quentin's eyes had changed, no longer were they bright blue. Instead they were deep pits of black, darker then even the most starless of nights. Quentin slightly pushed him back and nodded in thanks. We have done well. You should see to the others, I am fine. I simply need to see to the final stages of the Crystal's destruction.

The ronin glanced back at the Crystal. Indeed it did no longer spark or gleam. Instead it was pitch black, the same black as Quentin's eyes. In fact that was the very feeling he got from it, as of an eye. Watching, waiting, learning of its surroundings. He looked into the blackness of the Crystal and saw why it no longer glinted in the light. It had glinted as the light had shone through it. But no longer could anything shine through it, for now it was full. Filled to the brim with pure darkness. Quentin shifted, his hand reaching out for the Crystal. In but an instant he would touch it, and release an untold of horror. The others were too weak, too far away to do anything. There was only an instant till his hand touched it

In the flash of a splitting of an instant the ronin's hand snapped out, his clawed grip wrapping tight about Quentin's wrist and holding it fast. Quentin spun back towards him, his black eyes burning as his lips curled back in a snarl. His other hand rose, a brief flare of fire flickering around his claws. But they were unnatural flames, as black as the darkness of the Crystal. They seemed not to cast light, so much as to absorb it. The hand lashed in for the ronin's torn throat, the fires seeking his flesh.

Movement came without thought. Years of training sending immediate responses to his limbs. Claws flashed! A throat was torn! Quentin's face grew shocked as he staggered back. Blackness suddenly seemed to seep out of him and return to the Crystal. His eyes locked on the ronin's. The bright blue orbs wide with horror and betrayal. Then he fell, bright red blood frothing out over his pale brownish blonde fur.

Are you gone mad! A black blur smashed into him from the side, sending him sprawling to the ground. Dominic Rends-the-Darkness' stood over him. His face twisted up into a scowl of fury. He raised his blade, the klaive's silver glow shining under the blood to create a morbid reddish hued light. In that light he saw Marn drop down next to Quentin. Saw the leader of the pack glance up at Dominic and shake his head slowly. Dominic spun back to him, his eyes as hard as ice. What have you done?

The Crystal, gasped the ronin, his voice hollow and moist from his throat wound. Blood dribbled out around his lips as he tried to speak. it changed him. His eyesthe eyes of darknesslike the Crystalhad to

The Crystal? Marn turned and bent over it. His back faced them as he crowded over it. Dominic waited silently, his eyes never wavering from the fallen form of the ronin, his grip ever ready on his klaive. Slowly Marn turned around, the Black Crystal gripped in his bloody claws. His face drenched in the gore of his wound, his remaining eye narrowed and angry. He held up the Crystal, the dim red light of the klaive glinted through its gleaming sides. What of it? Quentin banished the darkness, and saved us all. For this you slew him?

Hey! I'm back! The slim form of the Corax came lightly running up the steps, her long dark hair tossing around her head. Her eyes suddenly widened in confused surprise as she saw them. She slowed and came to a stop. Her mouth fell open and worked silently for a few moments, finally she managed a few quiet words. What happened?

This is none of your concern, snarled Marn as he turned and stormed out of the chamber. Dominic, bring him. Now!

Come traitor, Dominic hissed coldly as he grabbed the ronin and roughly lifted him to his feet. Jo watched with a quiet look of confusion and sadness on her face as he was shoved past her. Dominic's face was cold and his eyes burned with anger. The gleaming blade of his klaive was kept near to the ronin's back, forcing him forward. We have methods of dealing with your ilk

* * *

What are you?

The question seemed to roar around her. She felt her body tumbling in the wind. But the wind was stale, stagnant. She tried to reach out her hands, to find anything amidst the darkness. But her arms were held firm in some strange shifting restraint. She gasped for air, her throat feeling dry and dusty. There was a bitter tang in her mouth. Blood. She was fairly certain it was her own. And there were the screams. The screams of spirits that surrounded her.

I am his.

Had she said that? The answer didn't seem right. She was no one's but her own. She tried to shake her head, but a splitting pain suddenly filled it. The blinding flash of light flooded her senses, burning and tearing at her mind. And then the darkness was back. Flowing through her like cool molasses. Thickly coating her burns in a salve of serene, relaxing, calm. She sighed slightly and relaxed.

Who are you?

This would seem to be a question with many answers. Often had she lain awake nights wondering this very thing. Was that where she was? Was she asleep? Was this a dream? If so, when had she fallen asleep? She did feel tired. But something didn't seem right. Something in the back of her head, struggling to get out. Pushing against the blackness.

I am the Chosen.

She was one of the chosen. But was she the Chosen? There was a difference in the two, she was certain of this. The darkness flowed through her, promising ease and pleasure if she would only let it coat her all. But that seemed wrong. She had never let anything enter her so totally. Her mind seemed to shift. Steel doors clamping shut and blocking out the darkness. She breathed in deeply as she concentrated on the cool liquid. Pushing it back from her.

What shall you be?

Each push against the darkness felt like a titanic effort. It was as though she were trying to run through thick, black, mud. It was hard to breathe, her lungs burned, her muscles ached. But she still fought against it. With each shove of her thoughts the liquid seemed to flee before her. With each step forward the path became easier. Soon the slow push became a walk, which became a run, which became a headlong dash. A dash towards awareness.

I shall be Him.

For whom shall you die?

Even as she spoke the word the other voices fell silent. The chanting and cries of enraged spirits ceased. She growled as she slowly forced her eyes open. She knew who she was, she knew what she was. They seemed angered that she did. Their ritual had failed, and she remembered.

I am Syntax, Theurge of the Glass Walkers. I am Garou. I am a chosen of Gaia. And I live yet.

Around her the Black Spiral Dancers fell silent. She was held aloft by a pair of tentacled Banes. The two dark spirits hissed in frustration as they saw her eyes clear and her gaze grow focused. She saw the two that had claimed her. She remembered fighting them, but they had been too skilled. She had lost. She remembered them picking her up, taking her with them. She had been captured.

The thin dark furred one that had killed Moros stood silent and motionless. His black robes drawn in around himself. His cold blue eyes glaring at her. Next to him lurked the female. Her wispy white hair hung around her waist, curling about the tattered blue summer dress she wore. Smears of blood and smudges of dirt stained her otherwise flawless skin. Her delicate lips curved upward into a mocking grin. Finally, standing directly before her, was a fearsome figure. Clad in ceremonial robes fashioned from the flesh of once living things, the Spiral stood tall. An ornate and rune encrusted staff was clutched in one hand, dozens of bones dangling from it, while even more were braided into his patchy gray fur. Only one eye looked at her from his sunken features, its ghastly green glow seeming to gleam with an evil that was not meant for this earth. She knew this one.

Fer-guath, master of the hive, she hissed quietly. She knew that she was doomed.

Yes, my dear, came his sibilant reply. He leaned towards her, his thin mouth splitting open to reveal dagger-like fangs as he grinned at her. At least you have my' name correct

The ritual began again. She screamed.

* * *

All of them spoke against me in council, each of them telling of the horrors I had committed while succumbing to the madness and evil of that place. The ronin continued on with the same quiet and calm voice he had been using to tell the entire story. He could feel the muscles of his body tense, his throat was feeling raw and sore. He could see it all so clearly, each moment of that leap towards Malise. Each horrible instant as his claws tore into her and she was cast down. All of them spoke against me, save for Jo, whose word was not accepted in a Garou council. He actually felt his lips twist up slightly at the thought, remembered how'd she yelled at Marn and Dominic, recalled the frustration in her dark eyes as she had heard his sentence pronounced. She had not been sad, just frustrated and annoyed, he almost smiled. She left Detroit then, for many years she traveled elsewhere. She was not pleased.

And they performed the Rite of the Lone Wolf, asked Charlie softly.

The ronin remembered it as the council had handed down the sentence. They had taken him to the heart of the caern, surrounded by packmates, friends, his fellow Garou, his family. Dominic himself had spoken the words. He had slowly described each of the ronin's accomplishments. At the end of each the entire collection of the tribes would utter, this deed is no more, it is forgotten.' Finally, when he had been stripped of everything, including his name, Dominic had turned his back. Then so had each and every member of the caern. He had walked away then, alone, unnamed, unremembered. I left the caern, I have not seen it since. I have been, from that day forward, a forgotten wolf, a nomad, a ronin.

spat Snapback as he rose and turned to the others, we should leave this place, return to the caern! We are polluted by his very presence. 

sighed the ronin softly as his jaw jerked upward in a slight nervous tick. He glanced up at the water stains around the AC unit. The brownish blobs seemed to twist and dance before his vision. They seemed to be the faces of his packmates, faces looking on in judgmentand then turning away. Perhaps this was all a mistake. I am as much a danger to you as I was to them. You should not travel with me.

He slowly rose to his feet. He looked at each of them one last time. And then slowly turned his back to them. Leona twisted her head about and emitted a few strangled breaths of air, the sound of human vocal chords trying to emit a wolfish whine of confusion. However Charlie still stood quietly by the door, his eyes looking at the ronin carefully. His anger from before seeming to have drained away as he had come to terms with the situation.

You should come with us.

The word came out of three throats at once. Snapback's a snarl of anger. Leona's a gasp of confusion. And the ronin's a soft whisper of hope.

You are not urrah, said Charlie plainly. I have looked into your eyes and seen nothing but loathing and self-hate for what you have done. Now is your time. Tyranthraxus rises again. Gaia needs you to fight for her once more. The tribes need you. We need you. Charlie held out his hand and looked the ronin dead in the eye. His face burning with the purity and belief he felt for his words. Come with us, I think we'll need you to last through the night alive. 

The ronin looked at the offered hand. He glanced at Leona and Snapback. The large metis had his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed in anger. Leona's face bore a look of uncertainty. Her wide eyes watching him with a contrasting mixed glance of distrust and respect. He looked back at Charlie, looked at the fervor burning in the young pup's eyes. It was the look that Charlie had used when Dominic had spoken. The look a hero deserved. The ronin tilted his head back and looked once more at the water stains. However this time they seemed to only be distorted blots upon the ceiling. He waited, but they took no form, nor gave any message.

This choice was his alone to make. 


	14. Storming the Tunnels

Greetings. Here's the next chapter (ooooh, chapter 13, ooooh) It was actually fairly easy to proof so I'm going to make a vow or two and promise to get the next chapter up by Saturday of next week (the 19th) Why do I do this? Mostly so Tremere will get off my back about wanting some violence. No, there isn't really any in this chapter, it's a bit more build-up. However we do get to meet the evil Master for a little face to face confrontation and also explore the intended plans for Syntax. (plus the moving love story between Endelon and the myterious warrior woman is given some more time. Awww, love in the Hive warrens, how *sweet*. In retrospect (though they are fun to write) if I was ever to do this again I might just axe the faerie stuff. They do serve a few important points in the story, but overall are mostly filler. Still, it's Fan Fiction.Net so as long as I'm posting and being hosted for free I suppose I can get away with any crazy faerie extra stuff I opt to stick in.

Jinroh: By the by, man. I'd just like to take some time to thank you for your reviews and all the time you've spent reading my stuff. Usually I'm able to respond kindly to reviewers in e-mails, but you have none. Therefore, thanks for the reviews and for the time, they really mean a lot to me.

Robert R.: Mostly the same song and dance as for Jinroh. I hope you're with us long enough for me to finish this monster. I'm trying to force myself to a scheduale again (y'know, I really *used* to be good about updates. Then that accursed thing known as life just got in the way...) I'm really looking forward to your 'real' review at the end and hope you enjoy the journey of getting there.

So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, plus that you tune in for the next one. And why would you want to do this? Well...the true nature of the mystery woman is revealed! And so is the main bad guy! Ooooh, and I also reveal the long-awaited name of the ronin! Plus we get to find out who the traitor of the tribes is as one of the companions shows their true nature! All this and free peanuts! Well....maybe not the peanuts, those can be expensive to get the good kind. Anyways, that's enough of my hot air; onto the story!

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit  


Chapter 13: Storming the Tunnels  


The sun was slowly sinking down below the horizon, the last rays washing the sky with deep shades of umber and crimson. There were almost no clouds, leaving the bright spray of color uninterrupted as the deep red bled across the sky. The sounds of the forest had grown quiet, the animals slowly withdrawing to their homes for safety. Within the Raging Falls caern, though, quietude had not taken hold. The lights of the council lodge burned brightly as voices argued from within. Voices raised in anger and frustration.

Jo sat alone on the stump of a tree that had been chopped down. Her hands were buried in the pockets of her jacket as she drew it in around herself. Her legs idly swung back and forth, the heels of her boots thumping rhythmically on the side of the stump. She watched the crimson sky with a dark expression. She saw not just the reddening of the evening. She saw images in that sky. 

Faces screaming in pain, their blood flowing out of them to drench the air in ruby washes of gore. She watched the moon itself, now visible in the dimming light of day, take on that scarlet and sanguine hue. She watched it shed tears of blood, three bright tears that slowly sank into the coming darkness of night. 

They should have been here by now! Jo jumped at the sudden voice from behind her. She realized she had drifted off into one of the strange visions that were the birthright of her people. Warnings and portents were ever visible to a Corax. She frowned as she looked up at the sky, now seeming once again normal. She considered the signs she had seen, they did not bode well. What is keeping that fool pup?

Jo considered the three tears of blood dripping downward. Was it three heroes descending, or three deaths. And since there were four of her friends out there, which one didn't have a tear, and why? Was it the ronin, still separating himself from the pack? She sighed and closed her eyes, lost in thought as she tried to figure out what it could mean. The drops descended, she wondered if that meant

Jo turned around to look over her shoulder. Dominic stood behind her, his face dark and cloaked in the long shadows of the trees overhead. He scowled at her as he walked closer.

I asked how you were doing, and got no reply. Are you well? You look troubled.

Shouldn't you still be in council discussing things? Dominic's face seemed to grow even graver. He folded his arms over his chest and stepped over to stand at her side. The crimson light of the sky fell over him, catching in ruby highlights upon the silvered hair at his temples and in his beard. His face looked worn and defeated. Jo hadn't seen the proud Shadow Lord's spirit so painfully ground down since the Night of the Kinslayings when he had hunted and slain the Glass Walkers of the city. She nodded in understanding, realizing what troubled him so. They're still talking about it, huh?

snarled Dominic. Marn questions the truth of my claims. The others are horrified that we abandoned Moros' body to the Dancers. They wonder if this is a worthy cause. They fear it a trap. They question me again, and then continue to debate

Charlie and the others went to do something about it, muttered Jo as she turned back to look up at the red sky. She remembered again the three red tears slipping down into the darkness. They're going to go down into The Pit and try to stop things all by themselvesand they will fail.

Are you sure? Jo glared back at him. Dominic nodded. Ah, the visions He frowned and lowered his head. His voice becoming ragged and sounding saddened. I would that I could go with you. Jo cocked an eyebrow at him, but then nodded in understanding. Dominic had guessed her actions correctly, he knew her too well. The others were going into danger. She was planning to go, she had to go. Had to try and help them. Dominic snarled and nodded back towards the lodge. But someone must try and be responsible. My days of rushing off unprepared for battle are long past. I am supposed to be wiser now.

If not happier, smirked Jo as she hopped off the stump. But don't worry about it, I'd be a heck of a lot happier if you came storming after us with a dozen packs of snarling Garou at your heels. Her face grew serious then as she sighed softly. I think we're going to need them.

added Dominic with a barely perceptible grin. He patted her shoulder and nodded to her. Jo nodded back as she turned and hopped off the stump. 

She started away, but spared one last look over her shoulder at him. He nodded her on, his face grim and helpless. She started sprinting down the path. As she ran her body melted away into the inky black shape of a raven. She flapped rapidly as she rose into the blood red sky and sailed back towards Detroit. Dominic watched her go, his face grim and worried. 

Gaia be with you Josephine, he whispered, Gaia be with us all.

* * *

A storm was coming, of this he was certain. Cruss stood within the grove that the childlings played in when allowed out of the freehold and wishing to use their faerie powers at play. Cruss was not so old that he couldn't recall how he himself had come here to play too. Whenever he had slipped away from his aides and tutors he would come here to just exist for a few moments as a being without worries.

Such times were long gone now. He stood in the center of the glade. The blue silk of his tunic ruffling around him. His black cloak snapped in the breeze, appearing like some angry beast pulling at its tether as it fought for freedom. The sky above him was dark, dark and stormy. Snow billowed and swirled about his legs. Kicked up from the ground in spurting gusts. He waited alone in the grove, wondering where Puck was.

It had been a comedy of errors since he had allowed her to pursue the Black Spiral Dancers. First off, it had been insane for her to go. One lone faerie was no match for even a relatively inexperienced Spiral, and for her to track down a huge packit was almost a death sentence. He again wondered if he would even see her again. Despite his own personal feelings about her he didn't really wish any harm to her. Next came the problems at court. For once he had found himself arguing against his own colleagues as he had tried to convince the other nobles that it was imperative that they take some sort of action, and for once his supposed friends didn't support his plans.

Are you mad? Lord Bryis Gwydion had snarled. We are to rush off and aid the Werewolves in some mad battle against the Spirals in the very center of their black power? Are we to rush in with glittering armor and assault the dark fortress of some ancient god? I realize you are young and eager, but trust me Juvariel, sometimes it takes more consideration then action to win a war. 

Cruss had felt his blood boil at Byris using his first name in court. It was as though to deny Cruss' title and relegate him to commoner standards. Around Byris, Cruss watched as men he had once considered his allies glanced away from him. Men who had spoken with him warmly as they discussed battle tactics and taking a more active stance in the wars of Detroit. Where now were their fine speeches? Where now was their bravery?

The House of Fiona has long held the wolves close to our heart, said Lady Willowquisp. Her breathtakingly beautiful face looked around slowly at the others. Her eyes that seemed to be living pools of water paused as she looked at each person there. Her soft as crushed rose petal lips pursed slightly as she finally shook her delicate head. But they are built for war, as we are built for beauty. This is not our battle, nor should it be.

Beauty can be a terrible thing, especially when angered, countered Cruss angrily. He had stood up and pounded the table loudly. Even the trickster Puck recognized the danger. Perhaps I am not to convince you by leaping atop this table and playing with toys, but it does not change the threat! Our shield has gone forth and found it is not defendingtiddlywinks from bouncing balls. But rather attempting to stop the balls from releasing a raging fire that shall destroy not only the shield, but everything about, above, and below it!

From her seat Cruss had seen Ayloshia smile slightly. He had felt a flush of hope then, surely if The Lady cast her support for this venture then the others would follow. He knew she was not one to endorse war. Indeed he had spent much of his time at council angered at her apparent weakness and foolishness. Of course that was what worried him. What if she opposed his suggestion simply to spite a longtime rival?

You are foolish, young one, grumbled Lord Uber of House Dougal. His deep voice sighed darkly. A fire is a wild thing, how can we be sure by blowing on it we can put it out? Perhaps you will simply make it more wild and thus more likely to destroy you as well.

Bulls to that! The sneering voice belonged to Lady Panegyric, the Nocker. Cruss had never much cared for her himself. She had the strange pasty complexion and swirling red cheeked face of other Nockers. And most assuredly possessed the bile filled tongue of her kith. However to top it all off she was not sidhe, she was a commoner who by dint and dumb luck had risen to the position of noble. Normally he was used to her opposing his motions, however now he was surprised to hear her scathing remarks attempting to support him. You can twist an analogy all ya want! Don't make the original friggin' point any less pointful! I would have thought you good at noticing the point in things after all, just look at that pointy head you got to use as a radar.

Lord Uber is far wiser then you shall ever be, said Lord Byris Gwyndion with a smirk as he turned his cold gaze to the Nocker. Perhaps, since your House will undoubtedly fail yet again to provide any real help, you should not even be allowed to speak.

Bite me, Byris, sneered Lady Panegyric as she made a very unladylike gesture. Lady Willowquisp flushed slightly in embarrassment, as some of the younger lords rose to their feet and scowled at the Nocker.

You insufferable twit, snarled Lord Byris. Did that mud you grow up within clog your brain? Would you have us march into the very jaws of death?

Would you have us sit back and wait for the jaws to come and claim us, retorted Cruss loudly as he slammed his hand on the table again. If so I say you are fools all!

The Lady has heard thy arguments, said Arienkel stoutly. His voice silencing the growing murmurs of the other members of the council. Cruss looked over in agitation at the court vizier, almost angered further by the attempt to restore order. But Arienkel's face was calm and stern, it held no expression but one of mild disdain for the loud yelling of the children. He peered pointedly at Cruss, who, embarrassed, slowly returned to his own seat. Arienkel nodded and glanced at Ayloshia. My Lady, what is thy will?

My will? Ayloshia's face shifted into another slight smile. The very mood of the room transformed to seem brighter for one passing moment at The Lady's amusement. Then just as quickly it darkened again, going almost shadowy and uncertain. In matters of war it is not my will that matters, it is the will of the people who will die. Cruss felt his teeth grinding together, he had heard these words far too often to have any doubt what was coming next. I have never ordered anyone to their death, and pray that I shall never have to. This is the Autumn of our existence, we seem to be a dying race. Is it our prerogative to seek out such conflicts like we used to do in the past? Or is our primary goal to seek to continue to hide and attempt to grow once more in power?

She looked at him then. Cruss had felt her eyes digging deeply into his own. The golden orbs gleamed with an inner light. The members of council slowly glanced at one another. Yet Cruss' gaze was frozen with Ayloshia's own. She smiled softly at him then, but it was a smile of confidence and support. He wondered what it could mean? After all, she had just crushed his position, and probably abandoned Puck should anything go wrong for the pooka.

All those who vote nay to the possibility of the attack, signify now, said Arienkel as he looked over the council. He struck the floor with his staff as he spoke a name for each hand raised. The hollow ringing seeming to Cruss to be the death knell of the city. Lord Gwyndion votes nay, Lord Uber votes nay, Lord Farntal votes nay, Lord Everflame votes nay. Lady apEliund votes nay.

I vote aye, snarled Cruss sharply as he raised his hand, glaring sharply at those who had voted for inaction.

Lord Cruss votes aye, said Arienkel softly as he spun his staff about and struck the other end, a soft humming note of calm emitting from it for each vote. Lady Panegyric votes aye, Lord DuLac votes aye. Arienkel stopped the beats, the last note fell silent far too quickly. Lady Willowquisp abstains. He turned to Ayloshia. Five nays to three ayes, with one abstention. The council seeks to avoid this battle. Ayloshia's silver hair danced slightly about her face as she continued to look at Cruss.

Then let it be known the council does not wish war.

He had glared at her then, his bright eyes narrowed in hatred of her cowardice and weakness. Ayloshia had watched him as he sat there and glared. The others slowly filed out of the room, leaving him alone in his anger. Ayloshia had damned them all, he would have to stay back and allow the Spirals to complete their evil for to act against them now would be to break the word of the council. She had risen slowly and taken a gentle step towards him. Her lips lifted in a gentle and sad smile, her eyes filled with apology. She had spoken then, her voice soft and mystical, a gentle caress of cool mist against his raging hot skin.

Tell me Lord Juvariel Cruss, do you ever find yourself displeased with the position you are forced to hold. How you must stand and speak only as your House wishes it and perhaps not as your heart does? She bowed slightly to him. Thus is how I must act, yet I must act for all the Houses at once, and all other fae of this city. Is my title truly an honor, or is it a prison?

It is a prison if you so choose to make it, he had snarled as he rose and stormed out. I go to retrieve Puck and then to wait for this dark creature to come for us as we all cower here and do nothing.

A burst of lightning snapped him out of his memories, a distant rumble of thunder echoed off in the distance. It was as though the very elements themselves sensed the growing danger and were attempting to warn everyone else. He lowered his face as he scowled, locks of his golden hair whipped about him as the wind gusted again. His cape snapped in the wind as more leaves cascaded past.

Hey! JC! How's it going? Where's the army? I can't help but notice a distinct lack of an army hanging around youdid you start telling jokes and scare them off? He glanced up at the small figure that sprang out of the woods and bounded up towards him. Puck skidded to a stop amidst a swirl of leaves and brightly colored clothes flapping about her thin frame. She grinned up at him, though already her eyes were starting to look grim. Where's the army?

Ayloshia wouldn't send one. The council voted not to get involved.

She couldn't send an army, you said she wouldn't. If she wouldn't send an army she wouldn't have asked the council to consider the request. She really wanted to be able to help. Now I guess she's stuck trying to build some defenses in the city itself.

Cruss blinked at Puck's logic, he frowned, but as he considered her words they began to prove rather insightful. It was true that she hadn't needed to talk to the council on every issue, but was her mere discussion of an issue proof that she supported it? She certainly hadn't seemed to argue for any action against the Spirals unless In that instant Cruss suddenly knew, he knew what Ayloshia had been telling him and the council the entire time. Each and every time he had argued for action against some threat in the past she had acted the same. It had been in her words all along. 

Should we seek out such conflicts like we used to in the past?' 

Fae tales of great heroes who preserved the Dreaming and protected the mortals, these were the stuff of legend to the fae. Cruss himself had ever loved to hear them, and had always wished that he had been born then, back when he could make a difference. He looked down at Puck, his face suddenly going dead serious.

I'm going to have to do something, he finally said. I have to do something.

Run away?

Somebody has to disrupt their plans, buy the city more time to prepare.

Prepare what?

A defense.

De fence around my house is already done.

I was offering to help you, you'll need all the help you can get.

Cruss looked at her doubtfully. Puck promptly struck a few martial arts poses. He sighed and nodded, realizing she probably was the only help he was likely to get. Also, she had already bested a few Spirals in combat, even if it was only by trickery. Could he really find any better help in such a short span of time? Besides, she was the one with the information he needed most.

Did you find their lair?

I don't think they play lyres.

Cruss' hand shot out and grabbed her shirt. Somebody needs to do something, anything, to slow them down and buy Ayloshia time to gather the nobles together into some sort of plan to protect the city from whatever it is the Spirals are going to do. If we're going to do something about it, you need to tell me about their lair!

It's gray.

you didn't mean hair, did you

* * *

This then, is the great Pit of the Wyrm? Robert Sands asked the question quietly as he stepped forth into that most revered of caerns. Endelon idly toyed with the idea of executing the fomorian worm then and there, however he knew that the man had been instrumental in arranging for the ritual, and thus he didn't strike. He felt a slim, cool hand slip around his arm and glanced over. She was next to him, her white hair billowing about her face in a magical dance. He looked into her eyes and knew that she too felt the urge to kill. They shared a cold and silent smile with each other. drawled Sands, I expected more from it.

His words echoed with the strength of their blasphemy against the vaulted ceiling of the immense natural cavern. The sounds ringing off the vast stone pillars and walkways of the chamber. At the head of the procession, the victory procession, Fer-guath spun about. His heavy robes billowed around him. The amulets and trinkets woven onto his sparse gray fur clacked together in an eerie panoply of anger. His single green eye gleamed brightly from under his hood, his skeletally clawed hand clutched tightly at his staff. Below him the faint green glow of the birthing pits seemed to throb in anger, casting a sickening glow over the assembled Black Spirals and the fomori that escorted Sands.

You speak words that bring you ever nearer to death, ape-spawn. Fer-guath's voice was a hollow hiss, full of threat and menace. Around him it seemed as though the air shimmered with an angry heat rising off of him, but Endelon knew well it was the eager thrashings of the dark spirits bound to the theurge. You have been allowed here as a guest. Do not think that you are needed for the ritual.

Watch your own words, half-breed, sneered Sands as he crossed his arms. His handsome and debonair features twisting into an unhealthy sneering mask underlit by the flickering green glow of the pits. I am no less a loyal servant of the master then you are. Though I serve him by choice, rather then by being born into a deluded pseudo-religion.

A deadly quiet fell across the gathering. The disheveled shapes of the Black Spirals drew in around their leader. A few, in lupus form, snarled low in their throats as they eyed the fools who insulted them in the center of their own power. Kendar stood at the front of the line, a snarling smile on his face as he puffed on his cigar and glared with hungry yellow eyes towards Sands. Next to him Gorefist grinned wickedly, the smile twisting the scarred half of her face into a horrid visage.

Robert Sands stood resolutely as his own men drew in about him. A collection of black suited men drew in close, their eyes alert and ready for danger. Nearby lurked a trio of the silent Sweepers. The psychic assassins silently waiting for the sign to attack. A solid row of black uniformed soldiers formed a defensive line in front of Sands. Guns gripped in their black gloved hands, the green lights of The Pit reflecting off the polished faceplates of their helmets. Mr. Kay stood tall and stern in front of them, watching the assembled wolves with a cold and steady gaze.

Endelon hadn't moved from his own position off to the side. One of his clawed hands gripped the shackles of the captive tightly, the weakened Glass Walker stood weakly in front of him in her battered human form. Next to him waited her, his fellow warrior. Her bright eyes danced with eager glee as she watched the two sides face off. Her hand tightened on his arm in excitement as she smiled. He felt the hungry pulse of his blades from under his black cloak. His cold blue eyes watched everything carefully.

Sands, you shall bare your neck before Fer-guath, or I shall rip it apart and claim your head. Kendar spoke deeply and slowly, his tone and posture suggesting he was unimpressed by the possible threat of the fomori agents that Sands commanded. Next to him Gorefist grinned wider, running her tongue over her teeth as she looked at the men before her.

Oh yes, sneered Sands, I suppose that's why you're called the head collector, eh? No, I shall not yield. You dogs owe me for doing your work and putting up with you butchering some of my men. Sands straightened his tie, his eyes dark and angry as he looked over the whole of the Spiral tribe. I have served the master as well, if not better then you. I am deserving of as much honor as that wretched witch-doctor.

Foolish monkey, sneered Flea-bitten, second most powerful theurge of the tribe. His wild gray hair seemed to flutter slightly as a few words growled under his breath brought forth the silent readiness of his own dark spirits. You should know there is much in this world you fail to understand.

Stinkface and his pack pressed up near Kendar, eagerly supporting the war leader. Stinkface's mouth split open, drool gushing out around his massive fangs as he snarled at the fomori. Crouched in front of him the twin dark shapes of Treeshaker and Rockcrusher grinned wickedly as they clacked their claws together eagerly. Pugdog moved up next to Stinkface, the older warrior supporting his pack leader willingly, his stance ready for battle.

Children, children, children. Please do stop this bickering.

The voice was little more then a whisper, but it cast a chill of dread across the faces of all of those present. They turned as two figures appeared within the shattered ruins of the Maw temple on the far side of the cavern. One was a stooped figure in tattered black rags. Wild black hair sprouting from his head and chin framed the madly gleaming eyes that seemed to be aware of nothing and everything at once. His body was coated in old scars and strange runic symbols that almost looked as though they shifted subtly, as though alive and aware. He grinned wickedly, his fingers nervously twittering together as he whispered something to the figure next to him. This second, shadowy figure, looked with mild amusement at the two groups facing off on the walkways.

Endelon watched the two shapes with a mixed sense of awe and surprise. The Mage had always been here, and didn't impress the Master Assassin at all. However the second shapeit was The Master, the force that had planned out the retrieval of the Dark Crystal, and the return of full power to The Pit. Never before had the enigmatic force deemed fit to reveal itself to any but its most senior of agents. Yet here it was, standing quietly before them. Endelon knew then that this was indeed the final step of the plan. Soon, very soon, the great Tyranthraxus would be freed from his prison and the city above them would be corrupted and fall to the powers of the Wyrm.

My dear Fer-guath, show Robert some respect, without him we would have never gained the resources needed for this ritual. Mr. Sands grinned victoriously at the hunched shape of Fer-guath. And Robert? Please be silent about things your simple mind knows nothing about.

Robert Sands' face fell as he turned to look in shock at the shadowed form of The Master. The assembled Black Spiral Dancers sneered and chortled at the monkey being put in his place. The Master started walking slowly across one of the great stone walkways that arched above the deep pools of primordial green ooze below them. His movements were smooth and easy, the movements of a warrior. The Mage skittered along behind him, his beady mad eyes wavering about as he gibbered away in some mad tongue. The Master obviously understood him, for occasionally he would whisper replies. 

As the pair approached Fer-guath bowed deeply to them, following suit so did the rest of the tribe. The fomori looked uncertain, but something about the approaching shape made them drop to one knee and bow their heads to it. Robert Sands shifted uneasily, but he too bowed in respect to his master. 

Endelon, however, did not. Perhaps it was because he had a hold of the prisoner, and didn't want to give her even the slightest chance of escape. Perhaps it was because he didn't bow to any member of his tribe, being too proud of his own prowess to accept another as his superior. Or perhaps it was the soft and sure grip of her on his arm as she smiled at The Master, her hazel eyes gleaming eagerly as she stood tall and waited for him to approach.

Take her to the chamber, said The Master to The Mage as he nodded towards the slumped and beaten form of the Garou. He then looked up at the white haired goddess who stood ready and alert. Are you sure she is a theurge, a powerful one?

The she-bitch stinks of Gaia's touch, she replied in her light and musical voice. She will serve as the perfect vessel for the return.

Yes, powerful, good, yes. The Mage giggled excitedly as he sniffed at Syntax's hair. Endelon motioned his head slightly towards Stinkface, and the pup and his pack lumbered forward to help The Mage move his captive. The maddened sorcerer waved for the Dancers to bring the prisoner with them as he turned and started off along a upward rising walkway that twisted and writhed up towards the ceiling far above until disappearing into a dark crevice in the wall.

You have done well, my dear. The Master's hand reached out, thin fingers lightly brushing through her wild mane of white hair and down her delicate and fragile seeming face. Soon you shall receive your reward. She grinned at him, her lips parting to reveal bright white teeth. The master turned to glance at Fer-guath. What of Dominic and the others?

Fer-guath shook his head slowly, his green eye glinting nervously as he looked at his lord. managed to escape my packs. But, he quickly cut in, they are running weak and frightened. My sources tell me that both he who rends the darkness and the bird are at the caern. They are foolish enough to think the tribes will help them now!

The Master slowly moved closer to Fer-guath. His hands flexing as they slowly transformed into the blackened claws of a werewolf. What of the others? What does your spy there tell you?

Fer-guath meekly ducked his head as he hissed the words. The last I heard, they seemed to be planning to come and disrupt the ritual. But I don't see how-

The voice of The Master seemed to grow incredibly louder, causing all those nearby to falter back from the sheer force of it. In the same instant The Master's hand lashed out, striking Fer-guath hard across the face and casting the frightful theurge to the ground. Do you think them so inconsequential?! My old friend, Slash is not to be underestimated! Nor are any who travel with him!

Perhaps my men should set up a security perimeter, offered Sands suddenly, grinning smartly as he attempted to further demean Fer-guath's position. However The Master simply spun on him, eyes pulsing a fiery orange-green.

You diseased monkey shit, don't you dare suggest that you can even understand what needs be done! Sands fell back, silent and white-faced. The Master snarled as he drew himself up to his full height. I will prepare the temple's defenses. Fer-guath, you shall prepare for the ritual. I want it ready to begin as soon as possible. Go! So saying, The Master seemed to blink out of existence.

Endelon watched Fer-guath stagger to his feet and quickly gather his fellow theurges to him as he rushed towards the temple of the Maw. Sands and his fomorian cronies slunk off into the shadows. Kendar bowed to The Master as he and the other Dancers started to prepare to defend the temple. Endelon slowly turned away and started walking back into the tunnels. He felt a light hand on his shoulder and a whispered question near his ear.

And where is the great Endelon going, hmmm?

The Master said there were Garou in the tunnels. He glanced over at the petite and delicate killing machine next to him. Her floral dress shifted slightly in a subtle breeze as she pressed up near to him. I am going to hunt them down and kill them before they ever get here.

She smiled. Let me come too, I hunger for blood.

They shared another cold and emotionless smile, their deadly eyes glimmering. Endelon knew that for the first time ever, he had found someone like himself. And together they were going to slay anyone who got in their way. The disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

The flashlight flicked on, splitting the darkness in a beam of light. The beam glinting over the scorched rubble and ruined equipment. Thick boots clumped over the burnt and ashen remains. Little gray clouds of ash puffed up around each step. Charred and splintered boards still stuck proudly and mournfully up into the air. Looking like nothing less then trees after a fire. The melted cables that lay in pathetically strangled clumps were like the blackened vines that had fallen off the trees as they had lost their leaves and branches.

The small figure stood alone amongst the destruction, and felt saddened to see it. The place had been something of a home for her, at least at such times as she had stayed there. So many deaths to build the place, and almost as many to defend it. Including her friend. She lowered her head, feeling a momentary pang of grief. But then dark eyes narrowed, and thoughts of grief were pushed aside. The world needed saving again, and darnit, that meant it needed her.

The searching beam of the flashlight paused as it spotted what it was looking for. Small, thin lips quirked upwards in a smirk as she approached the back wall of the gutted and burnt building. Pale, thin fingers reached out and probed along the floor, brushing aside ash and other debris as she searched for the small latch. Finally she found it, and gave it a few turns. Carefully twisting it one way, and then the other, unlocking the security combo. Finally, with a small click and a smooth hiss of hydraulics, the panel slid aside.

Just like a jungle, even after the fire there are the signs of buried life. She grinned as her face became washed in a bright glow from the computers hidden within the basement, safe from the fire. One of the screens flickered and a gleaming blue spider formed upon it. The sharp lines of the spider shone like cut crystal as it turned towards her.

Statement: Systems have suffered a ninety percent cut in capabilities. Conclusion: The Black Spiral Dancer attack has proved very costly. Statement: You are Josephine Corven, my friends call me Jo. Syntax has you listed as an acceptable user. Query: How may I be of service?

Hiya, Blue Storm, said Jo as she smiled at the spider. I know that Syntax burned up a lot of her own energies when helping form your body. One could almost say there was a lot of you in her or vise versa tell me, how portable are you? Literally, that is.

* * *

Lightning cracked through the sky overhead. A breeze whistled through the leaves, shaking the branches and causing the limbs of the forest to bend and quiver. Charlie glanced up at the sky and frowned. Black clouds were gathering. The black clouds of a storm. The thunderheads rolled forward, their billowing black masses roiling with the power that lurked within them. Sharp bursts of light seemed to arc and dance from one black beast to the next. Gaia's fury made manifest.

The air feels angry, growled Leona as she shifted uneasily. Her tawny fur rippling in the strong gusts of wind. Her tail was held out stiffly behind her as she silently trailed alongside Charlie. Her padded footsteps making little sound as she walked through the thick layers of snow that coated the forest floor. Something has upset Gaia. She shows her displeasure.

Charlie couldn't find it within himself to try to suggest that Leona's thoughts were anything but the truth. He felt it himself, an electric tang in the air that was more then just lightning. Something was starting tonight from which there could be no turning back. He looked ahead at the ronin and Snapback as the pair worked at clearing away a large mound of rubble and rock. The ronin had said that here was the place where the last of the heroes had escaped the tunnels, and here too was the place they would enter.

I found something, grunted Snapback as he pulled away a large flat rock. Inscribed upon it was a large rune. Charlie recognized it as an ancient form of Garou writing. The rune had one meaning. Danger.

It's the final warning, said the ronin softly as he reached over and pulled back another rock. Underneath could now be seen a sloping dark passage. It may be a little tight, but in lupus form it's not bad.

Snapback snarled slightly, his lips curling back as he looked over. We are to crawl in, like dogs?

You can stay behind if the indignity is too much to bear, sighed the ronin as he knelt in front of the hole. Charlie walked up and rested a hand reassuringly on Snapback's shoulder to cut off any hot-headed retort from the metis. I'll go first, said the ronin as he eyed the hole. You others shall follow behind once I make sure the coast is clear. Try not to talk too loudly or upset anything. The Spirals will be on high alert during the ritual. They are too close to victory to afford any mistakes nowjust as we are too close to defeat.

So saying he closed his eyes in concentration. His clothes seemed to blend into the thick red fur that sprouted over his body. The wild, long, and shaggy hair on his head remained so in his wolf form, almost appearing like a lion's mane. The red furred and scar covered wolf growled softly as it eased forward and slipped down the hole into the impenetrable darkness beyond.

Can we really trust him? Snapback asked the question sharply and suddenly, his hunched shoulders tensing as he scowled at the hole the ronin had disappeared through. He nearly slew all of his own pack the first time he went into those tunnels. How are we to know that we are not next?

I'm not sure I trust him either, growled Leona softly, her ears falling back against her head as her tail flicked nervously. He kill two of his own pack. He is nameless, a forgotten wolf. He is without honor.

Dominic doubted him, grunted Snapback as he looked down at Charlie. He called him urrah, he called him tainted by Wyrm. He is leading us to our deaths, if not by his hands then those of the Spirals.

And what would you have us do, asked Charlie as he matched Snapback's stare. Would you have us flee back to the caern? Perhaps just wait and see if the Spirals really can release one of the most powerful servants of the Wyrm?

Leona shook her head, perhaps this is foolish. We are not the great heroes, we are just three pups in over their heads. There is no shame in turning back. Snapback is right; all that awaits us down hole is death.

There is no need to be a hero, snarled Snapback.

I think you're right, allowed Charlie with a small nod. And that's why I'm not trying to force you to come. But, he looked at them, his eyes gleaming brightly. Dominic once told me that a hero was a dream, that they didn't exist. All that existed were people who did what needed to be done, and those who didn't. Slowing this ritual for even a few minutes is something that needs to be done. And I'm going to go do it.

From below came the call of the ronin, telling them it was all clear. Charlie looked at the others, and then turned and shifted to lupus as he made his way down the shaft. With a muttered snarl, Snapback followed. Leona shifted nervously, and glanced one last time up at the storm cloud coated sky. She breathed in the fresh air, and the turned and followed the others in.

* * *

You are going to die.

That would seem to be the logical end of this situation.

Stinkface glowered at the prisoner as he stood guard over the room she was being held in. It was a large, circular chamber. The floor had been carved and chipped away at until a wild spiraling design had been carved into it. Lurking around the only way in and out, him and his pack were the chosen guards for the prisoner; the Gaian Garou. Stinkface sneered at her, he and his pack had destroyed her lair and helped take her hostage. It didn't please him that she wasn't showing him the proper amount of respect.

In truth, she seemed to be taking the whole affair far too calmly. She lay upon the floor, a black rag tied about her eyes, and her hands and feet bound in silver manacles that prevented her from shifting. No concern was given about her ability to control spirits, as within this place there would be precious few friendly spirits to a technology theurge. Her slick black body suit was torn and ripped in a few places, revealing patches of bare skin and a few dried bloodstains. Yet still she lay there, calm and composed.

Can't we just cut her up a bit to make her be quiet? Treeshaker shifted unhappily, stretching herself languidly as her black eyes glared at the captive. Her twin brother lay curled up next to her, the two both in their human forms, yet so dingy and dirty as to appear more like living shadows. Tick giggled at their suggestion, the pale faced man nodding in agreement.

grunted Stinkface, we're guarding her. No one touches her. No one.

Aw, c'mon, snarled Quggis. The ragged bum rose to his feet, a wide grin of yellowed teeth appearing from within his shaggy black beard. I'll treat her real nice.

Shut up you idiot. Pugdog's hand swung out and backhanded Quiggis to the ground. The others fell silent at the veteran's cold stare. Stinkface is pack alpha, you do as he says. Pugdog nodded towards Stinkface, who nodded back. He had been surprised with the loyalty that Pugdog now seemed to show him, but he supposed the older wolf was fully accepting his defeat at Stinkface's hands. He'd just have to be careful not to show any future weakness that might make the skilled warrior decide a rematch was in order.

Excuse me, came a slimy human voice, but I hope I'm not intruding overmuch.

Stinkface looked up with a snort as he spotted the suit wearing monkey step into view. Robert Sands grinned in that easy and confident manner of his as he stepped forward slowly and with some degree of respect. Treeshaker hissed, covering her bare chest as she shifted into her crinos form, red glowing eyes glaring at the worm. Her brother only sighed and hugged himself to her, running his hands along her flanks as he too watched the human.

You must be the one they call Stinkface, I have heard much of you.

Stinkface's brow furrowed in curiosity at this odd comment. The monkey slug had heard of him? He glanced over at Treeshaker, she still glared with distrustful hatred at the human. Obviously not forgetting how he had treated Fer-guath and disrespected the Pit. He then glanced at Pugdog. The massive ahroun looked skeptically back at him and flicked his ears in a wolfish approximation of a shrug. Telling his leader he was unsure of Sands' intentions. Stinkface looked back, slowly shifting into his human form. His thin lips peeled back from jagged teeth as he grinned.

You have heard of me, eh?

But of course, Sands bowed slightly. Who has not heard tales of this young warrior who has faced Dominic, the render of darkness, in battle and survived? Who after only his first few hunts even now commands his own pack? Who has earned the respectand perhaps even the fear of the great Kendar, collector of heads.

This monkey stinks of trouble, snarled Treeshaker as she stood up and pressed herself slightly against Stinkface. She ran her hands possessively over his chest as she hissed in his ear. Speaking the language of wolves so that Sands wouldn't understand her words. He is trying to use you for something, I wouldn't trust him. He knows The Master no longer favors him.

That is true, snarled Pugdog, also speaking in the wolf tongue. But in desperation comes opportunity. Perhaps it is to your benefit to listen.

What do you want, monkey? Snapback sneered the slur loudly, making sure that the ape knew its place in this discussion. Sands only smiled, either not understanding, or not impressed by such acts.

I have heard that you are perhaps one of the best warriors to come out of this tribe in a long time. Off to the side Stinkface thought he heard Pugdog snort in disbelief. However, it was hard to ignore the feelings of pride that swelled through him at hearing someone acknowledge his greatness. I would like to think I could be of help to such a young up and comer. Sands smiled ingratiatingly.

What do you mean?

Well, Robert looked around, as though what he was about to say was a vast secret. I must admit that I have been impressed with you Black Spiral Dancers. he motioned at Stinkface and his pack. Just look at you, you're the perfect warriors and hunters. Fast, agile, tireless, deadly, mighty. I must say, you're far superior to any of the agents I have on staff. I mean, three of the regular Garou invaded and stormed about my base of operations without my guards able to do a damn thing about it. And you Dancers are supposed to be even stronger then them.

We are.

Yes, indeed. Robert placed his hands in his pockets as he cast his eyes admiringly over the assembled pack. I've decided to set up a group of, if you'll a-ha, pardon the pun, corporate wolves.

What the hell is this idiot talking about, grunted Pugdog.

He wants to make us work for him, hissed Treeshaker. She grinned wickedly. Do we get dental?

grunted Stinkface as he stepped forward and stood face to face with Sands. His eyes locked with the humans as he sniffed at the ape's scent. He grinned slightly, crooked sharp teeth grinding together. Tell me, ape, what would these corporate wolves' gain from working for you?

Why, there would be power, wealth, honor. And, offered Sands with a knowing grin, I would need one skilled and wise warrior to serve as the leader of the whole operation.

A war leader, breathed Stinkface with barely restrained excitement.

He only offers you what he knows you want to hear. It is a pathetic appeal to greed for power.

The curt, dry voice cut through his mind and jerked Stinkface back to reality. He spun around, yellowed eyes narrowing as he glared at the bound and blindfolded figure laying on the hard stone floor. She lifted one eyebrow slightly, almost as though she could sense him watching her.

joked Sands, it seems as though the esteemed guest of honor still has some spark left in her.

Step closer to me, Wyrm taint. It is within my powers to yet show you sparks.

A-ha-ha, somehow I don't think I'm interested in seeing them.

A reasonable decision, she allowed dryly.

What are you doing awake, eh bitch of Gaia? Quiggis shuffled forward and knelt a few paces from her. His cracked lips peeling back from yellowed teeth. You're gonna be needing all the rest you can get when the ritual starts.

agreed Sands with a smirk. The ritual. What is it supposed to do again, something about giving back the full power of The Master?

Returning power? Even behind the ragged black blindfold she wore, Stinkface could see her features contort in a look of incomprehension. He found himself grinning in amusement at her apparently lost calm. I thought the ritual was one of resurrection.

Stupid slug, sneered Quiggis as he spat a blob of gummy saliva into her face. She scowled in disgust, but made no other signs of caring about his action. Quiggis snarled at her, his hand suddenly lashing out as he punched her hard in the face, her head jerking back to knock soundly against the hard stone beneath her. Don't fuckin' look at me that way, bitch!

Stinkface sprang suddenly, his body transforming into his massive crinos war-form in mid-air. He slammed hard into Quiggis' back, tearing a quartet of bloody furrows in his back and tossing him hard against the far wall with a single claw swipe. Quiggis hissed in pain as he glared back at Stinkface. What did I tell you about touching her, Stinkface growled darkly. Quiggis quickly averted his eyes, and Snapback snorted in disgust. We guard the Gaia bitch, we don't touch her! Understand?

The other members of his pack nodded in understanding. Stinkface also noticed Robert Sands smiling and nodding in respect to him. He felt his chest jut out a bit more proudly as he sensed the praise. Then came that damned dry voice, still analyzing, and still calm, even after being struck.

But, if it is not a ritual of resurrection, then that would imply

That part of Tyranthraxus has already escaped the gem, and been among you all this time, chuckled a soft voice. They all turned to see The Master silently step out of a shadowed corner. Robert Sands went slightly pale, and slipped back a few steps. The others quickly bowed. However, the prisoner simply looked in the direction of the voice.

You have been here all along, ever since the Great Heroes descended into The Pit. Have not you?

Of course, my dear, of course. The Master smiled as he slowly walked towards her, his eyes agleam and eager as they traced over her lithe and supple body. Did you think the council decided to destroy your pack simply due to fear? I am Tyranthraxus, I am the Corrupter of Souls. As soon as those fools thought me dead, I found it ever so easy to bend them to my will.

This explains much, if it is to be believed, replied Syntax coldly. Though he couldn't see her eyes, Stinkface imagined they were burning with a hard and cold hatred. He shifted nervously, almost expecting this barely contained rage to overwhelm her and give her the power to break free and slay them all. Yet she did not, he relaxed, there was no escape for her.

Though I was amused by your pack's creation of a caern of technology, I'm afraid I was obligated to destroy it. You and your kind were trying to make too strong of a Gaian nest within the city. I couldn't run the risk that you'd have found me out, now could I? Syntax made no reply, her face hard as steel. continued The Master, I found it rather rewarding when I learned that you were the one they captured. It has a nice ring of finality and completion to it. Not only do I get to destroy the last of your pack The Master chuckled to himself as he knelt beside her. One of his hands reached out and brushed at her smooth white skin. She drew stiff, which only made him smile more. but then, as I possess your body I will destroy the council. You may think of it as getting revenge, if it makes you feel any better.

The ritual, she muttered softly, and now with a small trace of fear. It's not a sacrifice. You require a fresh host body within which to combine your current body and the new energies from the Crystal.

Yes, my dear, very perceptive of you. He brushed some of her wild black hair back from her face as he admired it. I do find that entering the body of a theurge works best. They are already so open to the tides and shifting of the spirit realms. It is really quite simple. The ritual is only needed to once more grant me my full power in one body. Your body.

You will be stopped.

Somehow I don't think so. The tribes aren't going to help. I have had too long to slowly poison and corrupt their minds against action. I'm afraid you are quite alone. Prepare yourself, my dear, the ritual will be ready soon enough. Then you and I can be one.

Almost as an afterthought The Master pulled down her blindfold, revealing her steel gray eyes. He grinned at her, though Stinkface didn't know why until he finally saw that icy mask of hers shatter. Her eyes grew wide, her jaw dropped open, she trembled in fear as she looked upon the face of The Master.

You? It cannot be.


	15. Traitors in the Darkness

Okay, okay, okay; I blew my self-imposed deadline. insert general excuses here So you see, it wasn't really my fault.

In other news, yes this chapter shall reveal the long awaited name of the ronin and more of the nature of The Pit and its servants. Now, I ust come right out and admit something for all you "ronin-must-have-name" people. I originally left out his name for simple style reasons (he was a ronin - thus to showcase it; no mae!) My, I thought, how brilliant. Then came the people; NAME NAME, NAME! they chanted. Well heck, I didn't know his name, I hadn't even thought about it. Thus, the real reason I've waited so long to reveal it was...(drumroll)...I didn't think of one till about chapter 12. Therefore please don't work too hard going crazy over the name or wondering why it isn't more epic. (in case you care the translation of the name is roughly; lone wolf, therefore I called him ronin in just another way. oh-ho-ho, oh-no-no-no, I crack me up sometimes!) Also, right at the end I do reveal the traitor...or do I? Cliffhanger time, wheee! In any case, thanks for checking this chapter out; now read on as the heroes face traitors in the darkness...

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit

Chapter Fourteen: Traitors in the Darkness  


You mean to tell me you believe an attack isn't called for? Bladesmaster Trent, alpha and speaker for the Silver Fangs in the absence of Lord Argent, glared across the table at Grendal. Even a Caern Warder should realize that if even half of what we've heard is true then it is well past the time to act.

So say the Fangs, grunted Grendal in his deep voice. But I am the Caern Warder, and I say that we have not enough warriors to both assault the Black Spiral Dancer's tunnels, and protect the Raging Falls. Our caern defense comes before any attack.

We understand that you are angered, Trent. All eyes in the council lodge turned to the head of the table where Marn sat. The aged Get of Fenris grinned reassuringly. The Fangs have lost a good leader tonight, even as I have lost a good friend. It is understandable that you are angry. Marn's voice was soothing, gentle words forming from his rough and scarred face. He leaned forward, his remaining eye glinting in the light from the fireplace. But need I remind you that even though my own blood, my own nephew, is out there amongst this danger, need I remind you that I show patience and judgment?

Bladesmaster Trent frowned but also returned to his seat. He nodded his head in supplication to Marn's words. Many of the younger leaders did the same. After all, Marn was one of the great heroes of the Pit. He had faced this danger before. He would know how to deal with Tyranthraxus and this ritual.

There is to be no attack, reiterated Grendal. The towering Get rose to his feet and looked at the other council members. Nor shall we spread unnecessary rumors about the camp. His stern face was set like stone, his eyes hard and unflinching. His military fatigues gave him a sense of command and knowledge, the sleeve pinned up over his missing arm only served to remind others of how much this warrior had given for the cause already. They were sure of his words now. We shall wait and see what transpires. Already Marn has taken steps to see to this problem, there is no need to get too worried.

Now, my friends, said Marn, as though very tired. I have important matters to attend to, thus, if no one else wishes to speak to the cou-

The door of the council lodge was slammed open. The assembled elders glanced up in surprise at the figure standing there. Dominic strode into the chamber, his black trench coat billowing about him in the stiff pre-storm breeze. His eyes swept over the elders, his lips curled back into a half snarling, half sneering grimace. The other elders shifted nervously and looked away. All save Marn, who sat calmly at the head of the table, his one good eye locked on Dominic.

You are all cowards and fools, said Dominic darkly as he stared at them. Long have I thought you the first, but only tonight did I realize the latter also held true! The proud Garou leaders all shifted in anger, flashes of rage appearing across their faces at this bold insult.

Now, now, my friend, said Marn with a small smile as he waved his hand placatingly. You already made your views on this situation quite clear. But we disagree with you. There can be no assault, but, there can be-

Fools! Will you sit here and wait for the Wyrm to swallow you at its leisure?

The bellow was near deafening. The other Garou in the room cringed in fear as they saw Marn rise, anger burning in his eyes as he snarled loudly. You are my friend, and have suffered much this night. Thus I forgive you this once for questioning my orders! Have you no honor in you? The council has made its decisionare you not man enough to obey it?

Dominic's coat snapped wide open. His hand hissed out from behind his back as he drew forth Bonespur. The klaive almost seemed to burn with an inner light as it flashed in the darkened chamber. From outside came a mournful howl of wind, and the distant rumble of thunder.

Look at this blade, Marn. Dominic glared at the leader of the tribes as he lifted the shining weapon. Do not, ever, seek to speak to me of honor and obeying the council when you must remember what blood has stained this weapon before!

You overstep yourself, growled Grendal as he shifted his chair back so he could be ready for an attack. None may draw a klaive in council, not even you.

Dominic's dark gaze didn't flick away from Marn's eye, but he did sneer at Grendal's words. He raised his arm, the knife shining like an errant piece of the moon. Behind him lightning split the sky, casting his shadow across the council table.

Three years ago I thought you cowards for ordering some of our own to be murdered for a crime that was perhaps not even wrong. On that night I went amongst them and slew them for you. Six Glass Walkers fell to my blade that night. I. Murdered. Them. For. You. 

One by one each of the councilors turned his face from Dominic's unflinching gaze. Each of them seeing in those dark eyes the sight of a man who had broken his personal code because he couldn't break his honor. Only Marn's eye remained on him, unblinking, and unafraid.

You did your job, Dominic, as is your duty. Do not expect me to cry over the blood of traitors to Gaia.

Who is the traitor, Marn? Whose nephew stands alone against the night? Whose friend was slain because no one would help him search through the city for some lost pups? Who turns away from his duty, to hide behind pretty words and illusory dreams of purity?

What of you, Kinslayer, sneered Marn. Dominics face seemed to grow tighter, and more fearsome at the old name he had earned for slaying the Glass Walkers of Detroit. Who murdered' those he thought innocent? Who stripped his friend of even his name instead of giving him a clean death? Do not think you are any less dirty, dirtier, then I.

I know well my sins, Marn. Dominic pointed his klaive at Marn's chest. But know this, I hold this council's decision to be naught but the cowardly posturings of the feebly old, and the foolishly young. I no longer care what you do, Marn. I only know what I must do.

And what is that?

I am going to return to the Pit, and I am going to drive Tyranthraxus back into the deepest and most damned void I can find. Dominic snarled as he pulled his arm back, slipping Bonespur back under his coat. And, when I return, I am going to take a personal interest in finding out why you seem so complacent about this whole affair.

So speaking Dominic spat upon the council chamber. Yet so great was the fear he had inspired in them, not one of the Garou present found it in themselves to stop him. With a growl of disdain Dominic turned and stormed out into the raging night. Lightning crackled and roared across the sky in huge leaping swarms. Soon the dark cloaked figure was out of sight, another shadow amongst the darkness.

Dominic had gone.

* * *

You're lost aren't you? Snapback crossed his massive arms over his chest, his wolfish muzzle twisting into an ugly sneer. Yellowed eyes narrowing dangerously.

I am not lost, growled the ronin. He was the only one of them still in his homid, or human shape. Both Charlie and Snapback had taken to their crinos forms, ready for battle at any instant. Leona remained in her wolf shape, serving as an alert scout with ever vigilant ears and nose. The ronin shook his head as he looked at the three twisting and winding paths that lay before them. I just need to make sure we choose the correct path.

His voice echoed slightly off the walls of the tunnel. Charlie didn't feel very comfortable at all hearing that sound. The tunnel itself was a rounded and rocky affair. Feeling much like it had been bored through the earth by some monstrous worm. Occasionally strange warm breezes would whistle through the tunnels with an eerie moan, giving Charlie the feeling that perhaps they were within the gullet of some slumbering beast.

Add that to the fact that the idiot ronin couldn't seem to figure out which way to go, and that sluggard Snapback was yet again looking to start a fight, and Charlie was understandably annoyed. He shifted slightly, clawed hands curling into fists as he looked at first Snapback, and then the ronin. Neither of the two properly respected him. He was the nephew of Marn . The blood of heroes and leaders flowed through his veins. Why wouldn't they respect him?

s just pick a path and go, better to keep moving then to wait and die in these accursed tunnels. Charlie growled the words, slightly louder then he had expected to. The others turned towards him, Snapback's sneer only growing deeper.

Fool pup, you are a child. Let the men decide the business here. You be silent.

Stupid humans, yipped Leona, always stupid.

The ronin didn't add anything to this. He simply shook his head slightly, his eyes seeming to go unfocused. He remained as useless as ever.

Don't call me a pup, Snapback. I'm as much of a man as you'll ever be, and at least my line is a pure and clean one. Not the twisted rutting that gave birth to a metis!

Snapback's ears fell flat against his scalp. His eyes flared as he bared his teeth. Charlie grinned eagerly, waiting for the fool to start something, so that he might rip him open.

Yeesh, what's up with you guys? Literally I mean?

Four heads twisted in surprise to look back up the tunnels. A short, thin figure quietly advanced on them, its clunky combat boots moving with surprising stealth over the roughly hewn floor. Above her right shoulder floated a crystalline spider that glowed with a soft bluish light that illuminated her face in a odd half light. Josephine Corven's dark eyes gleamed as she smiled at them.

Fancy meeting you all here.

Charlie felt much of his tension seem to fade away as the Corax's arrival dissipated his rage. He looked down at her and the spider. What are you doing here?

the smart money would be that I came down to help keep you guys from doing anything too stupid, wouldn't you say? Also, I happened to figure you all may just come running down here with only half a plan in your heads, no offense, she amended with a nod to the ronin. He simply frowned slightly as he watched her prattle. So, in any case, I went and nabbed our pal Blue Storm here, Jo jerked her thumb towards the spider. See, he's a bit of a unique creation formed with much of Syntax's own energies and all.

Charlie blinked slightly, and then glanced over at Snapback. The misshapen metis simply shrugged, not following Jo's rant fully. Leona seemed likewise confused. The ronin however suddenly nodded in understanding.

Of course, with something so personal of hers, you can track her down.

And guess who gets the gold star today, class? Jo grinned as she reached a hand into her pocket and pulled forth a silver necklace. However, the sword pendant at the end of it didn't dangle downwards, as the laws of gravity would seem to suggest, but instead seemed to be pulled off to the left of her, angling downward but at a gentle slope. Ooooh, look here, it's almost as though I've already started tracking her, whispered Jo theatrically. My, my, my, it seems the right passage to take would be the left passage, right?

chuckled the ronin slightly. Jo went and took the lead spot, her necklace held out before her like a talisman, the odd glow of Blue Storm lighting her way. Behind her trailed the others, their senses alert. The ronin glanced over at Charlie as they walked, his voice a soft whisper. I expect anger from Snapback, but it seemed like you were being affected too. You should be careful.

Careful of what? Charlie growled the words irritably, displeased with being spoken to like a child.

Listen, quietly, can't you hear them? Charlie frowned, focusing himself. When he paid attention there did seem to be a slight buzzing noise tickling at the edges of his perception. He frowned and looked back to the ronin. Don't seem so confused, it was you who recited the poem to me only last night. The ronin cleared his throat softly, then spoke;

From the darkness around them came chattering cries,  
A madness filled them, that pulled at their loyal ties.  
Eyes in the dark.  
With fear did mark.  
Whispers that their souls and friends would die.

What does it mean, asked Charlie, still doubtful, but now starting to believe that the ronin was telling him something important.

These are the halls of the Corruptor, the halls of Tyranthraxus. The ronin's eyes seemed to go dark with some old memory. Be careful, within them you cannot even trust yourself

* * *

They come.

Her voice was soft and sure. Endelon turned to glance at her, but she only nodded at him. He frowned as he turned and climbed back up the wall to squeeze into the crevice he and her had found. They both had shifted to homid to fit within it, their bodies pressed tightly against one another.

How can you be so sure? His emotionless blue eyes flicked over to look at her. She simply tapped the side of her head with one elegant finger.

He speaks to me, it has been such since I first pulled myself from the Pit. He tells me they come, already the watchers see them.

The watchers?

Don't worry, she smiled at him, though we won't fight alone, I'm sure that there will still be some glory for you and I to claim. Quiet now, they are almost here.

Endelon grinned, and gripped his blades.

* * *

He is a traitor. Charlie blinked in surprise at the words that seemed to echo through his head. He watched the ronin walking in front of him raise a hand to call for a stop. He will kill you all, like he has done before.

What the heck are you up to, chirped Jo as she looked back.

We're almost there, said the ronin calmly as he set his wooden box on the ground and unlocked it. It is time I became ready.

I thought you said you'd never wear those things again. Jo's voice was uneasy, her dark eyes watching the ronin carefully. He simply shrugged as he opened the box.

Times change. Inside the box lay two exotic weapons. Two sets of razor sharp silver claws glinted in the dim light of the tunnel. Straps of hardened yet supple leather to attach them to your wrist were hooked to each of them. The long curving silver blades were built to jut out over a hand to create a lethal weapon. The ronin picked them up and strapped them onto his hands with practiced ease. His dark eyes reflected the silver blades as he held them up before his face. One last time do I wield you, one last time do I ask for the deaths of others.

He seeks your death, do not trust him. Charlie frowned as he shook his head.

Does anyone else hear that? Leona growled the words uneasily, the hackles on her back raised.

The she-wolf, she hates all of you human born. Trust her not, she will betray you. Charlie blinked as he felt a surge of distrust and hatred for Leona flow through him.

It's the Corruptor! His agents are trying to turn us against ourselves. The ronin leapt to his feet, eyes darting along the walls. Don't listen!

Don't listen to him, he will murder you if you turn your back to him.

How do we know they lie, snarled Snapback, what about the others you slew when last you did walk these tunnels.

The metis, he hates you all, for you are not like him.

Get a grip, shouted Jo. I've been here before too, these things are just messing with our heads. You can't listen to them.

But they're inside my head, whined Leona as she shook it desperately. Make them stop!

Don't listen to the she-wolf, she plots to feast on your flesh.

Charlie advanced towards her. Calm down, we can beat this.

It is the young and foolish galliard. Do you think him truly so naïve? He has already betrayed you. He is ours, as all of you shall be.

Show yourselves! The ronin's eyes flared as he spun around, advancing down the tunnel. Glaring at the walls.

Why not show your true self, murderer? You who slew your friends.

Charlie started after the ronin. We should stick together.

Yes, you should, thank you for fooling them, Charlie. You shall be rewarded.

Even as Charlie was about to shout in anger at the nothingness that buzzed in his head, he saw the walls shift around him. Green eyes seemed to flare into existence as rocky black bodies unfolded themselves from the stone. The beetle-like creatures buzzed in a drone that seemed to stun him as they raised their barbed forelimbs to strike.

managed Jo before the creatures struck in a deafening wail of buzzing noise. The ronin suddenly went still next to Charlie. His eyes darted back and forth between the onrushing creatures. His hands rested calmly at his sides, the silver blades shining in the darkness. 

Then he struck.

Lashing out blindingly quick, his claws were leaping flashes of silver that suddenly became explosions of green gore as they struck their targets. His body seemed to shift and melt, first into one form then the next, as he cut a bloody swath through the beasts.

Charlie bellowed as he charged the first creature approaching him. Its barbed forearm lashed down, catching him painfully in the shoulder. The creature buzzed in glee as it tore its arm upwards again, the barbed hooks tearing deeply at his flesh and ripping it out in tiny dripping chunks. Charlie bellowed in rage as both of his hands swept inward, catching the insect hard in the face, claws raking at its eyes. It seemed to issue a different sort of buzz, perhaps one of anger, perhaps one of pain. Charlie didn't care, instead his claws hooked into the breastplate of the thing. He tore downward, peeling and ripping the armor off the creature's chest in a spray of green blood and wild buzzing. His head shot forward instinctively, jaws tearing and biting deeply into the pale gummy flesh he had revealed.

A second bug slashed him from the side. Charlie snarled as he picked up the first and smashed it hard into his new opponent, sending both toppling to the ground. He took an instant to glance around, he and the ronin seemed to be alone. The others cut off behind a wall of the insect creatures. He glanced over towards the ronin, preparing to suggest they try fighting back towards the others, and then paused.

The ronin stood motionless, his arms hanging by his sides as he looked up the passage. Charlie followed his gaze, and choked back a small whimper of fear. It was Endelon. The black robed figure advanced slowly, two flaming klaives gripped in his hands. The filthy black bandages wrapping his body fluttered with each of his moves. His cold blues eyes promised only death. Beside him trailed a young woman in a torn and bloody summer dress, her hair a wild cascade of platinum blonde locks.

With a start Charlie realized the insects had stopped attacking them. Instead the creatures seemed intent on cutting them off from the others. It was as though Endelon and his companion had claimed them. Charlie snarled as he walked up to stand by the ronin.

I'll handle the woman, can you beat Endelon? When the ronin didn't respond Charlie glanced over in worry. The ronin's face was slack, his eyes defeated and confused. Charlie frowned at him. Don't you hear me? Are you okay?

Forgive him, young pup, but Conner was always so easy to distract.

Charlie echoed the name as he looked from the ronin to the speaker. It was the woman, an odd smile on her face as she watched them.

Don't you know of him, foolish pup? He is Conner Degear. Oh, she raised a hand to cover her mouth slightly as she laughed. I guess you wouldn't know that, after all, isn't he nameless now? All for killing one or two little friends and leaving us behind in the Pit.

It can't be, the ronin's voice was hollow, desperate, confused, helpless.

Actually, my love, it very much can, she smiled at him, her eyes gleaming dangerously.

Even as he spoke the name, Snowflake sprang into action. Moving with blinding speed she charged. The ronin half-heartedly raised his claws to block her, but already she was springing into the air, leaping over him. She landed behind him, her delicate hands snatching out to grab his wrists just above the silver claws. In but an instant she was transformed into a gleaming white werewolf. The increase in her size and strength quickly changed her grip from a light hold to a bone crunching grip as her claws ground into his wrists. The ronin snarled in pain as she twisted his arms and forced him to his knees.

Charlie gasped in shock as he staggered back. Never had he expected the ronin to so easily fall in battle. Then he realized the grim truth as he looked at the ronin's slack and shocked face. He had succumbed once more to Harano, slipping into that mystical depression that affected Garou on both a mental and spiritual level. There was a chuckle to his side, Charlie looked up in fear to see Endelon approaching.

Don't worry boy, we all die sometime.

* * *

The halls were empty. He walked along them slowly in any case, his eyes alert, his ears searching for any noise. The only light he had came from the glowing silver gleam of Bonespur, the blade lightly gripped in his right hand. The stink of the place filled his nostrils. The smell of decay and rotten meat. Dominic walked the halls of the Black Spiral Dancers, and he did so unopposed.

As he had expected, the entirety of the stinking tribe would have gone down into the deeper levels of the catacombs in order to watch the ritual. Who knew what dark secrets were left here to find and destroy, unguarded by their twisted masters? But that didn't matter at the moment, only speed and an awareness of the enemy did. For that had Dominic opted to seek his way into the very bowels of the nest. His ears twitched as he heard the plinking sounds of dripping water. His lips curled into a wolfish smirk as he followed the sound.

He stepped through the curtain of hanging black vines warily, his dark eyes scanning the chamber. Pipes crisscrossed the room, water dripping from them into puddles and onto empty cans. The drops made a weird and eerie chorus of sound. Dominic ignored this as he approached the back wall, spotting there small piles of supplies and equipment. His black shoes stepped silently over the random bits of trash and refuse that littered the room. He slipped skillfully through the maze of pipes until he knelt in front of pile of equipment.

One of his gloved hands brushed roughly through crumbling papers inscribed with the twisted runes of the Black Spiral. He knocked aside small personal belongings. Until, with a grin of triumph, he found what he had hoped was there. His hand held up the map, a detailed layout of The Pit. Dominic nodded, this little excursion had been worth the time it would cost him. He may be getting older, he mused, but he was also getting rather more cunning.

The slight rustle of wind behind him alerted Dominic at the last moment, he sprang to the side even as a whip-like tentacle slashed down with a sharp crack on the ground where he had been but moments before.

hissed Dominic in surprise as he saw what now rose up before him. The creature floated a few feet from the floor, its center mass an oily, mucus coated collection of eyeballs. Below them dangled a fanged maw, whose tongue slavered over the jaws eagerly. Around it rose dozens of thick, ropey tentacles that even now were reaching towards him.

Dominic snarled as he raised his klaive, apparently the Spirals hadn't left their lair quite as unguarded as he had first supposed. His clothes seemed to melt away into black fur as he transformed into his crinos state. It was none too soon, for the creature's tentacles again lashed out for him. Only now, instead of retreating, he attacked. The silvered flash of his blade cut through the air in a gleaming arc, severing the first tentacle to reach him.

Come, Wyrmspawn, growled Dominic as the horrid thing wailed in pain and surged towards him. I have no time to waste with you, let us end this!

Dominic sprang forward. His klaive flashed in the darkness. The creature's tentacles slashed inward. It bellowed in rage. Blood sprayed across the floor. Then there was no more sound, simply the dripping of water from the rusting pipes.

* * *

And the green mad fires, seemed funeral pyres.

The words of the poem drifted out of Charlie's mouth slowly as he gazed out upon the dread finality of The Pit. Upon their capture he and the ronin had been brought here, prize trophies to parade before the other Black Spiral Dancers. They had been shoved along stone walkways that arched over the bubbling green morass of The Pit. The acrid stench burning Charlie's nose and making his eyes water. His flesh had been torn and abused as the Black Spirals had amused themselves by tearing, scratching, and kicking him as he had been dragged before them. 

Finally they had been brought to a cave with a massive window-like opening that overlooked The Pit, it was here they were to bear witness to their final defeat as the Dancers finished the ritual. They had been bound with thick rope. To keep them from changing forms and ripping free a silver collar had been placed around their necks. On the inside of the collar was a spike, that pressed up against their throat. Should they shift, they would kill themselves. A quartet of Black Spiral Dancers had been placed as guards. The four crouched near the door, their baleful yellow eyes watching the prisoners carefully.

Charlie glanced over at the ronin. The nameless wolf who had been called Conner Degear by the woman who had helped capture them. The woman who had outfought the ronin in a matter of moments. The woman that Conner had called Snowflake. Snowflake, the name of one of the packmates that Conner had supposedly slain in this very Wyrmhole eight years ago.

Conner, the ronin, had said nothing since their capture. He hadn't fought back. He hadn't issued the slightest sign of pain or degradation as the Dancers had abused them. The ronin had simply sat there, with that same half dead stare on his face. His mind having slipped into Harano, attempting to find escape in his own dream world, rather then face what he had seen.

Charlie whispered to the ronin, but got no reply. You have to snap out of it, come back. We all need you here. Still Charlie received no reply. The harsh whisper of his old name suddenly caused Conner's head to snap upward, his eyes darting to the side to look at Charlie. His face still seemed slack, and his features hopeless, but at least he was once more aware of his surroundings. Charlie tried to grin. I don't suppose you have a plan or anything.

Plans were Dominic's thing, not mine.

Still, I suppose tha-

She can't be alive, yet she is. I killed her, but I didnt. Now she serves the Wyrm. The ronin turned away from Charlie as he spoke the words. His voice morose and ragged. He looked out over The Pit. The green glow of the slime casting a sickly lime glow across his face. The ronin glanced over at Charlie. I struck her down you know, I loved her and I struck her down. All I had to remember her by was a bit of her fur, bloodied and caught under my claw, and the scars her bite left upon my throat. It was me, Charlie, I cast her into The Pit, I damned her soul to the Wyrm.

growled Charlie, you didn't. I don't know what she is, but she isn't really Snowflake. She's just some illusion, some trick of The Corrupter. Charlie wasn't sure he believed the words himself, and thus was unsurprised to see the ronin fail to react; instead simply slumping back against the wall, a look of defeat on his face.

My, my, what distinguished guests we seem to be collecting for the evening. It just gets better and better, doesn't it, my dear?

Yes, master.

Charlie looked up as five figures entered the room. He swallowed in fear at what he saw. There was the unholy trinity of the Black Spirals. The hulking Kendar, war chieftain of the packs. The quiet, shadowed form of Endelon, master assassin. And Fer-guath, the wizened theurge, clutching at his staff as his needlelike teeth split into a horrid grin. The other two, the ones who had spoken, were Snowflake, or at least the thing that looked like her, and a final figure in a long black robe whose face Charlie couldnt see. Beside him, the ronin, didn't even seem to have the will to look up.

See, master. I told you, the spirit has left his body.

Yes, I see. How sad it is, he cannot even greet me. What is wrong, Slash? Have you not the energy to greet another old friend?

The word drifted out of Conner's mouth like the final whisper of a dying man. He slowly lifted his head, shaking it slowly as he looked at the shadow covered face of the figure. No, it can't be you. It can't be

The shadowed figure chuckled as it reached up and grasped at the edges of its hood. Pulling them back it revealed a simple, young face of an eager and intelligent seeming man. Long black hair pooled around his narrow and intense features as he smiled. Yet, as innocent as it seemed at first, Charlie quickly spotted the horrid truth of the thing. It's face was pallid, and graying, the face of a dead man. Both eyes were missing, not simply hidden in shadows, the gaping black eyeholes seeming to be darker then any normal shadow. It's throat bore a long, smooth slash through it. The rent still soaked in the thick black clots of dried blood. The ronin only shook his head more, his eyes growing wide in terror.

Oh Gaia preserve.

Gaia means nothing here FOOL! The bellow erupted out of the robed figure suddenly and without warning, the shout ringing painfully in Charlie's ears. The shape sprang forward, one pale and unsightly hand clamping tightly on the ronin's long rust colored hair and jerking him roughly to his feet. Don't you speak her name to me! That bitch's days are numbered! She has had her time with the world, now it is the era of Tyranthraxus!!! Don't you see how perfect it is that you are here? You who almost stopped me before, yet failed when his friends wouldn't believe him?

You're Quentin, gasped Charlie as he recognized the face of the figure. You're the theurge who performed the ritual to banish Tyranthraxus. You're dead!

Ah, ah, ah, chuckled Quentin. Just this body is dead, I myself am feeling quite well. He turned to look at Charlie with a grin as he dropped the ronin to the floor. You see, Quentin made an error in his little ritual. He had counted on Argent to be there, but the Silver Fang was wounded, and his cowardice overwhelmed him. He withdrew; thus leaving one inexperienced theurge against all that is Tyranthraxus. Quentin grinned wickedly. To his credit, the boy did last a little while, but in the end his fate was sealed. So I claimed his body, and was about to claim the rest of my power, when this fool, Quentin prodded the ronin with one of his feet, figured out what was happening and killed his friend. Thus leaving me in a dead corpse, without all my power.

I was right all along, gasped Conner. You were possessed by the Black Crystal, you were trying to kill us.

Not exactly, smirked Quentin. I was simply planning to cast a spell that would have corrupted all your hearts to my service. Unfortunately I didn't get to finish it all the way. Thus most of you escaped mostly untouched. He turned to look at Charlie again, the cavernous darkness of his eye socket's seeming to burn a hole straight into the young galliard's heart. Tell me, boy, which of your great' heroes do you think have already succumbed to my touch?

A hero wouldn't fall for your tricks, snapped Charlie quickly. Quentin only rolled his head back in laughter, the move emphasizing the horrid gash in his throat.

Oh, child! What innocence, what idiocy! Do you think that Argent's cowardice was totally his own? Do you think that Conner's Harano was self inflicted? Do you honestly believe that Dominic didn't accompany you here because he chose to, or because I willed it to be so? Do you suppose Snowflake now stands with me due to her own actions? Do you even think that damned fool bird is beneath my notice? Do you! He laughed wildly, throwing his arms out wide and spinning around. Every move, every moment has been but another part of my grand scheme! And you two now have front row seats for a moment eight years in the making. I've waited a long time to finally claim this city Quentin's hollow eye sockets almost seemed to flare with an inner fire. Fer-guath! Prepare for the ritual! My time has come, and my time is now!

* * *

Jo sprang backwards even as one of the fearsome insects lunged for her, its barbed arm slashing through the air with an eerie whistling sound. Leona snarled as she sprang forward, teeth bared as she slammed into its side. Her jaws locked onto its neck and bit down hard. But the creature's neck was thick and squat, it was protected by layered chitinous plates of armor, she couldn't bite through. With a contemptuous shrug of one arm the insect tossed her off, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Hey, ugly! The insect looked up just in time to receive a solid cloud of chemicals in the face from the spray can Jo now held. It buzzed in a wild roar of anger as it jerked back, wildly wiping its claws across its face as it staggered blindly. Jo smirked as she held up the can of insecticide towards the other bugs. who else wants some? The bugs droned ominously as they charged. Jo's smile slipped away. double crap.

Leona's body shifted and surged outwards as she transformed into her crinos form. She bellowed loudly as she charged forward, one of her clawed fists slamming hard into the chest of one of the beasts. The chitinous armor splintered beneath her blow and her claws drove deep into its chest with a sickening crunch.

Beside her Snapback roared as he smashed and kicked at the creatures. Tossing them back into each other. His powerful arms easily batting aside the onrushing beasts. He bellowed at them as he grabbed one, twisting and pulling its arm off and then using his improvised club to slash at the faces of the others. Leona snarled as she continued to rip and tear at them. She felt her flesh torn and ripped by the wild slashes of the barbed arms, yet still she continued to fight. Her teeth ripped into pale flesh. Her mouth was awash with the putrid taste of their blood.

We've got to get out of here! Jo's cry seemed to echo out of nowhere Call it a strategic withdrawal or whatever the hell you want to, but we gotta get out of here!

Snapback's hand gripped tightly at Leona's arm, jerking her back from the bugs. The horrid creatures clacked in glee as they continued forward, barbed arms slashing through the air. Leona roared in desperation, realizing that Charlie and the ronin were still back in that tunnel somewhere. Cut off from the pack. Alone. She struggled against Snapback, but it was in vain, his strength far outmatched her own.

In here! Jo ducked down a side passage, Snapback followed, dragging the still kicking Leona with him. They entered into a slightly larger cavern. Each of them pressed up against the walls as Jo opened up her jacket and ordered Blue Storm inside. They waited in that darkness for what seemed to Leona to be forever. But the distant droning buzz of the bugs seemed to become less and less. Finally Jo opened her jacket again, and the blue Weaver spirit again lit the chamber in its soft glow. gasped Jo, that was close.

Yes, it was, wasn't it. Snapback's voice was dark and ominous. Jo's large dark eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, and then quickly darted away. She shifted uneasily as Snapback started to growl. 

Yeah, it was. Okay, seeing as how I sorta still know these caves, and have the ritual to track down Syntax. I suppose we better get at it. Just, maybe by a different route and all that. Literally.

Yeah, I see how you should maybe be in charge now grunted Snapback. But I have a question for you first, little bird. Why didn't those bugs attempt to poison our minds against you?

What are you talking about? Jo's voice was quick, agitated. Leona frowned as she watched the Corax shift about some more.

Back before the ambush, those things were filling our heads with all sorts of madness. They suggested I was a traitor, that Leona was a traitor, that Charlie was a traitor, and that that stinking ronin was a traitor. Snapback's eyes seemed to gleam menacingly as he started forward, advancing on the small shape of Josephine Corven. not once did they say anything about you. Kind of odd, wouldn't you think? After all, why try to tell us that everyone but you was a traitor. Why would they want us to trust you?

Why the heck should I know that? They were giant bug things! Excuuuuse me if I don't get their motives all the time. It's not like I had time to ask them or nothing.

Leona frowned as she considered Snapback's words. This hardly seemed to be the time and place to be making accusations. It wasn't as though the pack was in a strong state at the moment, they would need all the help they could get. It also wasn't as though he or Leona had spent much time with the bird, were they really the best judges of the near stranger?

However, when Snapback's arguments were considered, they made a strange bit of sense, especially when you thought about things carefully. And if there was a traitor amongst them, it would have to be dealt with quickly, before they reached the Pit. Her ears flattened against her head as she growled softly. Leona concentrated as she enacted one of her Gifts, a trick that a spirit had taught her to detect when someone was lying or not. She focused herself on Jo.

offered Jo with an ingratiating smile. I'm being totally honest with you here. I have been since the start. Leona's eyes narrowed. Her gift wouldn't be wrong. She had heard the words that Josephine spoke and knew them to be false. She snarled and looked at the dark and shifting eyes of Josephine Corven. 

The Corax. 

The traitor.

snarled Leona. I remember how this whole affair started. We were ambushed, all of us, at the lake. All of us almost died, Sees-like-an-Eagle did die! But you didn't, Leona growled as she reached out and shoved Jo in the chest, the dark eyed Corax stumbled backwards and collapsed from the none too gentle push. You hung back, watched the whole affair. Almost like you knew it was about to happen.

It was you who brought the ronin and Syntax into this, grunted Snapback. Were you hoping to wipe them out as well? Were they too dangerous for your master to let live? And what of Dominic? I saw how you clung to him, manipulated him. He was alone with you when he opted to flee back to the caern and do nothing about this ritual.

What do you know about the Pit? What secrets are you hiding from us? Leona snarled as one clawed hand reached down and grabbed Jo by her t-shirt, lifting her as though she weighed nothing. Jo's boots dangled three feet from the ground as Leona shook her. I want some answers, Corax, admit it, you've been lying to us all along! Speak now, Corax, Leona growled, I am philodox, I am the Truth of Gaia, and I shall know if you lie.

Have you hid the truth from us, shouted Snapback angrily.

Jo's dark eyes flitted back and forth between the two angered Garou. Her pale, bony hands scrabbled for a grip on Leona's arm as she dangled from it. She licked her thin lips and took a few deep breaths, tried to smile, then stopped and sighed.

Yes, I've been hiding the truth.

You're the traitor, roared Snapback.

Leona gasped. 


	16. Tempest of Corruption

Greetings and thanks for reading. April showers bring May tempests (oh-ho-ho, oh-no-no...it's the new chapter...it's a play on words...why do so few people laugh *with* me as opposed to *at* me?) Okay, this is it, chapter 15 and only one more chapter to go (though it is an uber long chapter, so I may yet post it in two parts, I'm still deciding) If nothing else by the end of this month I predict I'll have this monster wrapped up (I'm aiming to do it by the 27th, since that is my birthday it's sorta a reverse present.). Okay, so what do we have to look forward to in this chapter?

The traitor being dealt with!

Dominic vs. everybody!

Puck!

and...scantily clad women! (Okay, not really. Jo has a no nudity clause in her contract, Leona threatened to "throat" me, and Snowflake threatened my soul. However Syntax does get a little "racy" in her torn outfit if you're desperate...and some male Spirals get very nude if that's your speed. My apologies Tremere.)

In any case, onto the story; let's see how our dwindling heroes manage to survive a tempest.

Fall of the Heroes: A Tale of Detroit  


Chapter Fifteen: Tempest of Corruption  


Syntax heard the slight shifting of air, the sounds of someone breathing. They had put the blindfold back onto her, but she could still hear just fine. She had been alone for approximately fourteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds, but she couldn't be sure. She had personally expected to be dead long before now. Though whether her continued life was a blessing or an insidious torture she was undecided on. Then the voice spoke, the one voice she hadn't expected, nor wanted to hear again.

It was Dominic, the butcher of her pack.

his voice was whispered, harsh, worried, nervous. Can you hear me?

I can hear you quite well, butcher.

he growled, now is not the time for this. I'm here to help you for Gaia's sake.

My first thought is that I am surprised you would not simply rejoice to see me dead. The words were harsh, flowing out of her sharply and suddenly. What was it about this man? What was it that made her incapable to forgive or to forget. In all other things she was in control, cool, calm. But the merest thought of him set her blood to boiling. My second thought, is that if you are here to help me, why am I still chained?

They have you within some ritual circle. I cannot enter it.

If you say so.

There was a moment of silence. Syntax wondered if perhaps he had gone without any word. This, from him, would be unsurprising. He had already murdered her pack. He had proven that if the council ordered assassinations then he was willing to do their dirty work. So what if Argent had claimed that Dominic didn't wish it. It still made him no less guilty, no less to blame. Syntax felt the rage run through her, anger at the murderer who spoke to her from the darkness as though he were a honorable and just man.

Have you heard any sign from Charlie and the others?

They are here?

They should be, grumbled Dominic darkly. They had enough of a head start, that even with the shortcuts the map showed me I shouldn't have beaten them here. They should have tried something by now. But the ritual seems to be proceeding smoothly His voice trailed off as he became lost in thought, then returned, forceful and in command. I have to go do what I can. Don't worry, I will come back for you.

You will pardon me if the thought of your return fails to alleviate my doubts, she snarled. Even as she spoke the words she almost wished she could take them back. But old hatreds died hard, and she was learning that her hatred of Dominic ran deeper then she ever dreamed possible. He was the killer of her pack and friends. If she had been there that night he would have slain her as well. No, there was nothing wrong with her thoughts. He deserved to be hated. I do not trust you, murderer.

I have no words for what Ive done. Syntax listened to his hushed words. The words were tinged with a pain that was not unlike her own. A pain for something lost that can never be returned. She forced herself to bite her tongue and allow him the final words. They were simple and direct, as Dominic's actions always were. On my honor, I'll return for you and I will get you out of this place alive.

And then Dominic was gone.

* * *

You're the traitor!

Snapback reached out and grabbed Jo from Leona's surprised grasp, then spinning her about and hurling the thin girl hard against a stone wall. Jo shrieked in pain as she hit with jarring force and crumpled to the ground. She had hit hard, she lay unmoving as a massive and snarling Garou moved over her. Snapback pulled back one clawed hand, ready to split her head like a melon.

Leona's arm shot out, her hand clamping down on Snapback's wrist and halting his blow.

Leona? What are you doing?

Leona herself had reacted on only a split second worth of consideration. But she knew something was wrong here, very wrong. It had happened when Snapback had declared Jo the traitor; Leona's gift to sense lies had still been active. 

Snapback's accusation had been a lie. 

Meaning he didn't think Jo was the traitor at all. How could he know Jo wasn't the traitorunless he knew who the real traitor was? And if he knew who the real traitor was, why accuse Jo?

Snapback purred her name as he turned to her with an easy smile. Don't you see that we have her? Her Corax trickery can't save her now. Orah, of course, you wanted the right to kill her for yourself. He nodded in understanding. It is as well, you ferreted her out, you claim the glory.

Leona looked deep into his yellowish eyes as he grinned. How many packs had he been part of that were all dead now? How many of those packs had fallen to the Black Spiral Dancers? How hard had she argued with the others to allow him to join their pack? Luckyshe had said he must be a lucky wolf. Surely one would have to be lucky to keep escaping all those battles with the Black Spirals.

She remembered how he had claimed a lone position for himself during the attack at the lake. How he always made sure he had some separate time, away from the others, on any mission. She remembered in the alley, how he had asked Endelon to stop. How he had said he could explain everything. How he had reached for his pouch. How he always reached for his pouch, always to mess with something

Leona? Are you well? Here, he chuckled, let me slay this wretch and we shall be on our way.

Her other hand snapped out, grabbing onto the pouch that was slung to his leather belt, ripping the rough material open. The contents spilled out upon the ground. A pair of keys, a wallet, a few loose coins, and an eara mummified and withered ear of a wolf. Leona looked down at the ear, feeling the palpable sense of dread that seemed to ooze out of it. She had seen such talismans before, they were used by the Dancers to communicate with each other.

She lifted her head to look at him, feeling hurt and betrayed. No, not you.

Oh? Were you expecting more pack loyalty?

He twisted his arm, pulling her off balance as he spun around. His free hand lashing out in a blur as the claws drove deep into her belly and tore her open. She released his right hand in shock, he quickly backhanded her with it, snapping her head to the side and tossing her against the far wall of the chamber. She gasped as she struggled to maintain her footing, she looked up to see Snapback, a feral grin on his fanged face, her blood dripping from his claws as he advanced on her.

Her own blood dribbled past her lips, staining her tawny fur. 

Let me guess, you figured I was lucky to have survived so many battles? He sprang forward, the massive muscles of his body propelling him towards her in a blur of fangs and fur. She leapt to the side, diving and rolling out of the way. The air above her head hissed as his claws passed within centimeters of it. She spun around to face him again as he lumbered back to his feet. They make you an offer, they let you live and you join them. It's not as bad as you might think. He shrugged his huge, hunched shoulders. They never once judged me for being born a metis. They understood me! He paused, looking deeply into her eyes as a nervous smile appeared on his lips. He whispered his next words, soft, inviting, almost pleading. d understand you too

Leona's thoughts hardened sharply, backlit by the wild rush of anger. Her packmate had betrayed her! Betrayed her and the rest of the pack. It was the only crime that wolves would never allow; and wolves only had one punishment for breaking the law of the pack. Leona dashed forward, ducking low under the sweep of his arm and raking her claws along his trunk-like left leg. He snarled and kicked out at her, knocking her back to sprawl on the stony ground.

Too bad, Throatripper, you were the only one I ever liked. I had thought you would join us. He flexed his arms as he rushed in, slashing at her in wild, swinging attacks. You should have joined, Throatripper, because you and I both know that you could never beat me!

Leona didn't answer, there was no more time for answers or questions. All that was left was the fight. She was younger, faster, more agile. He was larger, stronger, more experienced. He had wounded her badly in those first surprised moments. She had torn open his leg, further slowing his moves. He was a warrior, raised since the day he was born as a Garou. She was a wolf, born and bred in the wild and natural society of the pack. She was a servant of Gaia, he had betrayed Gaia for the Wyrm. Only one of them could be allowed to survive.

Leona ignored the burning pain in her gut, didn't pay heed to the blood seeping from her mouth. She kept moving. Shifting into her hispo form, that of the monster wolf, she knew she had to outmaneuver him. She darted back and forth, circling ever around him. His wounded leg slowed him, made turning painful. She would dodge in under his guard, strike fast, biting and tearing at legs and guts, and then retreat again. Snapback roared and glared, his claws ever ready to lash out at her again.

did anyone get the number of that truck?

Leona looked over in surprise as Jo sat up, rubbing at her head. A sudden snarl brought her back to the fight, she looked up as Snapback lumbered in. His massive jaws clamped down on only air as she jerked her head back from him. His claws swept in for her, but she dove under his legs and scurried to safety. Spinning back around Leona noted the danger. The Corax was innocent, and helpless to defend herself from Snapback. Her presence was only a distraction.

Bird! Go, now! I'll deal with this!

snickered Snapback as he glared at Leona. Run along little bird, I'll be coming after you soon enough. Run far, run fast. Jo hopped to her feet, dark eyes looking at the two bloodied wolves. Then she cursed as she turned and sprinted quickly down another of the dark tunnels. Snapback turned to watch her run, howling a warbling cry after her. 

He laughed, and Leona struck. Dashing in and biting and tearing at his thighs, another few quick hits to her credit. But each of his blows was like five of hers. His claws tore into her sides whenever he accurately gauged her attacks. Blood soaked her once golden fur, her breathing became labored, ragged. They fought in two circles of blood. One around Snapback, the liquid seeping from his horrid leg wound. The larger circle formed around it, formed from the dribbling streams that gushed out of Leona. Her moves started to slow, her vision blurred. She knew she didn't have much left

Snapback's laughter brought her back to her senses. She stood on wobbling legs in a pool of her own blood. She was slowly slinking to the floor, too weak to go on. So it ends for you, Throatripper. None of you will make it out of here alive!

His maddened yells reminded her of the others; her friends, her family, her pack. They were counting on her help. Would she fail them? White hot lancelets of rage stabbed through her as she lifted her head. Her eyes flared with a feral gleam as she looked at Snapback, traitor of her pack. The rage flowed through her, giving her strength, giving her power. Giving her one final chance. Snapback didn't expect it. There was no cold reply to his mocking insults. There was no growl of readiness to continue the fight. There was no action of a human.

There was only the sudden spring of a wolf, and the clamping down of sharpened fangs on a thick neck.

You bitch! Snapback's arms locked around her in a ferocious bear hug. The coiled muscles drawing together in a crushing embrace. Throatripper didn't cry out, she didn't even growl. She simply twisted her head and tore at his flesh. His arms pulled tighter, her ribs creaked in protests. She heard something pop. The air gushed from her lungs. Her jaws pierced flesh, her head twisted, ripping skin apart as a shower of crimson droplets rained down upon her face in a wash of red.

And then it was over.

* * *

Loktor nethrak bal ut du-bay. Grissnak, nev ut martor des hepshaatak. Glavret-ar et Tyranthraxus.

By the inner darkness of the great Wyrm do I command thee, spirits. Heed my call, and obey.

The ritual had begun.

Fer-guath raised his staff as he recited words in the ancient language of the Wyrm itself. The bone talismans upon his staff clattered and clinked together in time with his words. The hood of his ceremonial robe had been cast back. The garment sewn together from the skins of virgin humans hung heavily around him, glistening eerily in the emerald light of The Pit. His one good eye seemed to glow with a green light that equaled that of The Pit. Beside him was The Mage, his black robes trailing about him as he spoke the second half of the ritual. The crawling tattoos that coated his body seemed to skulk and shift upon his skin. He giggled as he wove his own staff in an intricate pattern over the Black Crystal.

The two figures stood within The Maw, the shattered temple erected to the glory of the Wyrm. Behind them lay the broad obsidian steps that lead out onto one of the stone platforms of The Pit. Upon this platform stood many of the other Spirals. They chanted along with the theurge and the sorcerer. 

Quentin strode forward from the mass, the Spirals parting for The Master. Behind him came two other Dancers. Both of them were stripped bare. Their fur had been shaved from them and wild patterns drawn upon them in red and yellow pigments. Held above their heads, they carried Syntax. The Glass Walker continued to struggle, even though her logical mind probably told her it was helpless.

From high above the chamber Jo watched from a secluded niche. Her dark eyes reflecting the green glow of The Pit in fear. She shook her head slowly. This was so definitely and literally not a good thing. Literally that is. More like the literal literalness of literally bad. Her face scrunched up in consternation as she considered the situation. Surely there had to be something

A hand clamped down around her mouth!

I can't believe you're still trying to talk, sighed a voice. Can't you tell I'm stopping you?

Jo craned her head back to look at the dark shape. 

Josephine. Shut up. She fell silent. Dominic waited a moment, as though to make sure, then slowly pulled his hand back from her mouth. He nodded over the edge of the cave mouth she had found. They're starting. We don't have much time. I couldn't get Marn or the tribes to make a move. Where are the others?

Jo shook her head. Snapback went traitor, Leona may still be fighting him for all I know. Dominic's eyes darkened at the news, Jo swallowed and plunged ahead. As for the others she nodded her head down towards one of the larger caves far below. Looks like they've got front row seats for the return of Tyranthraxus and the doom of Detroit.

Dominic followed her gaze to look down at the two captured Garou. His face went still, dark eyes darting back and forth between the swarms of Dancers taking part in the ritual, and their three captured friends. Jo realized she was holding her breath, praying that Dominic would have an answer. She was excellent at quick little tricks and mind games, hell she tended to enjoy them. But this was a battle plan. She knew that Dominic had to come up with something. Or else they might all be doomed.

We'll have to do something his face was dark, he already sounded defeated. His skin looked gray, like hed aged more this night then in the past decade. Jo had seen that sort of face many times. It was the face of someone already dead. I never told you this. But I think you're probably one of the best friends I've ever had. Im telling you now, because when we-

Oh, bullshit, she hissed. He looked over at her in surprise. Listen up, Dom. I will not be having with one of those it's a good day to die' speeches. I don't want to feast with you in the halls of Valhalla or have stories sung about how bravely I died. I'd rather have a good song that goes a little like she grew old, she drank lots of cocoa, and died in a warm bed at home surrounded by friends.' Now, you're going to come up with a brilliant plan to save the day right now, or I'm going to just go catch a movie or something. You hear me?

His dark face split apart into a tight smile. Teeth flashing in the gloom. You shall die in a very warm bed, he offered with a chuckle. His face then grew serious as he reached out and patted her on the shoulder. Thank you. He looked back down at The Pit, his face once more seeming eager and fearsome. The face of a warrior and a hero. Very well, we can't do this alone. I'm going to disrupt the ritual. I need you to sneak down to the others, and free Charlie and the urrah.

What, me? By myself?

You are not a Garou, Josephine, said Dominic. Jo felt the instant flush of annoyance and anger flash through her. For as long as she had worked for them, she had heard these words. The Garou convinced of their superiority, their difference, their own worth over all things. An angry retort formed on her lips, but was cut off as Dominic spoke. But I am glad for it. Never change, Jo. Never lose that joy you have for life. Focus on your mission, I know you can do it. You are no Garou, but you are also no fool and no weakling. Go now, move swiftly and silently. Never forget, that our song spoke of eight heroesyou were counted amongst us. I'll see you again when this is through.

He turned and slipped back into the tunnels. The gloom swallowing up his black coat as though it were just another shadow. Soon he was out of sight, lost in the darkness. Jo smiled after him as he disappeared. He had been like the Dominic of old. She nodded after him, she wouldn't let him or her friends down. She had a duty to the pack, whether or not they accepted birds.

* * *

You seem pleased, noted Endelon quietly as Kendar moved up alongside him. Both of them stood in their crinos forms. Kendar a massive, towering figure with burning yellow eyes. His leathery hide had been decorated with runes drawn with blood. His heavy sword was slung over his back, the carved and howling faces within the sword seeming to leer in glee. Endelon seemed slight by comparison, his own lean shape wrapped in filthy black bandages and cloaked in his black robes. His cold blue eyes looked at his friend. Does the return of Tyranthraxus to his full might please you so? 

It is well, but it is not all that I consider. Kendar leered down at Endelon. The two of them stood on the outer edges of the gathering of Spiral's before the temple. Kendar nodded up towards the front of the gathering, where Snowflake stood. I asked The Master about her. I told him I wished her to join the packs. He agreed. Kendar ran his large black tongue across his jagged teeth. He said she was a fitting reward for the War Leader of our warren.

hissed Endelon in a whisper. His dark blue eyes turning to look at Snowflake. He looked at her face, feeling as though a knife were twisting in his gut. She is to be yours then?

Yes, a gift from The Master to the War Leader, agreed Kendar with a chuckle. It is just as well, I was already growing bored with Gorefist. He spared a glance towards the scar faced pack leader who was intent on the ritual being performed. It was always such a headache to have to worry about her putting a knife in your back.

I imagine, whispered Endelon, his blue eyes still intent on Snowflake.

Perhaps you have been correct all along; living like a monk, alone in your little room. Kendar chuckled and bumped his friend with a grin. Saves you all the difficulties of dealing with a mate.

hissed Endelon softly, you have always had many mates. His eyes burned as they looked at Snowflake. He felt the twin klaives strapped to his sides burning against his skin. He felt a burn within himself, a silent anger that knew no release.

Of course I have, there is not a single she-bitch in the warren that would not wish to lie with me. I am the War Leader. I am the strongest warrior. My seed is the best. They would not want the seed of some weak fool. Kendar snorted in amusement as he turned to again look at Snowflake with a lascivious smile. Endelon's head slowly turned to look up at Kendar. The briefest flash of an emotion passed those unemotional eyes. It was hatred. But tell me, my friend, continued Kendar, do you think that-

The sounds of the ritual died out into muttering garbled hisses of surprise. The Master spun about, his black robes billowing about him as his eyeless gaze scanned across the cavern. Fer-guath stepped up alongside him, his lips curling back over his needlelike teeth as he pointed his staff up towards one of the upper stone walkways.

My lord, it is he who rends the darkness!

What? My agents told me he had fled to the caern!

Endelon followed the pointing end of Fer-guath's staff. It was Dominic! The Shadow Lord stood upon the walkway, his eyes staring scornfully down at the Black Spiral Dancers. Endelon snarled as he spun, quickly turning and sprinting along the stone paths, rushing for the one that would carry him to the Shadow Lord. Behind him he heard a loud roar as the other Dancers rushed after him, eager for their own chance at Dominic.

* * *

Now that is what I call a herocourse I also call it pretty stupid. I mean, what was he thinking? I could think of a better plan then that, heck, even you could think of a better plan then that. At least you better be able to.

From their vantage point amongst the upper ruins of The Maw temple, Puck and Lord Cruss could well see the lone Garou making what seemed to be his final stand. Waiting quietly as the Spirals rushed up towards him. Cruss shook his head slightly, it was indeed a noble and brave death, even as it was hopeless and wasteful. He glanced over at Puck, who rested lightly on one of the broken ends of a massive stone column. Her multi-colored eyes were staring directly down, at the two figures performing the rite over the Black Crystal.

The two of them had found it easy to sneak into The Pit. Their combined skills and magic cantrips allowed them to pass about nearly unnoticed. The problem had been that once they were inside, there had been little it seemed they could do. Neither of them was powerful enough to deal with so many Black Spiral Dancers. It had seemed as though the ritual was going to happen, and all they would be able to do was stand mute, and horrified witness. But as Cruss looked at Puck he began to suspect the pooka still had at least one more trick up her sleeve.

what are you thinking?

She glanced up at him with an odd smile. The green glow of The Pit danced in the swirling shades of her multicolored eyes. Her face was underlit by the glow, child-like innocence awash in a lurid gleam that transformed it into a twisted caricature of innocence. Cruss had hardly seen anything quite so horrifying in all his life, he shivered as she giggled.

What am I to do? You've said yourself that all pooka are only good for minor tricks.

She grinned wider.

* * *

Destroy him! Tyranthraxus, The Master, bellowed the order. Fer-guath felt a quiver of fear pass through himself as he saw the anger burning in the empty eye sockets of The Master. He stepped forward to watch his packs closing in on Dominic. The Shadow Lord stood unafraid and calm, apparently waiting for his own death. Fer-guath grinned as he saw Endelon charging forward, almost there. But suddenly Endelon slid to a stop, the dread master assassin seeming to ignore Dominic as he looked around the cavern. Fer-guath's brows furrowed in frustration.

Endelon, you fool! Destroy him now!

came the hissed whisper from Endelon as he twisted, looking about wildly. It is a trick.

A trick? snarled The Master.

A trick? echoed Fer-guath in confusion.

A trick. They spun around at the snarl and gasped.

Dominic was behind them!

The Shadow Lord sprang out of the shadows of The Maw, leaping over a massive pile of rubble and landing lightly in front of The Mage and Syntax. His black furred form seemed like some dreadful nightmare; fur bristling and fangs agleam. Squealing in fear, The Mage backpedaled desperately from the enraged werewolf. 

The two Black Spiral guards that stood over Syntax bellowed and charged forward, their naked bodies glimmering with war paint, their claws sharp and deadly. Dominic raised his right hand, the klaive there glimmered with a shining silver light as he sneered at his attackers. They came at him together, one striking low, the other coming in high. Leaving no way for the Shadow Lord to evade their deadly blows.

Dominic's arm snapped out as they approached, hurling his klaive with pinpoint accuracy into the throat of the attacker coming in low. The Dancer gurgled in surprise as his head was tossed back and he collapsed to the ground. Dominic then sprang, coming in under the swing of the second Spiral, his claws tearing deeply into unprotected skin and gutting the shocked warrior. The Dancer whined in pain and surprise at his sudden end, even as he slowly sank to the floor, his guts spilling out around him.

Fer-guath gasped in fear as he who rends the darkness continued his forward momentum without slowing. One of Dominic's clawed hands snapped out and grabbed onto Syntax's limp form, slinging her over his shoulder. His other hand reached down and plucked his blade from the throat of the dying Dancer, bringing it back up and ready for use. Dark spirits swirled around Fer-guath as he leapt in the way, his staff gripped firmly in his hands as he snarled.

You cannot have her, Render! He knew that if Dominic took Syntax, then there would be no suitable host for The Master to use. You should not have come here, now you will never leave!

That remains to be seen, growled Dominic darkly as he sprang forward. Fer-guath sneered as he swept his staff forward, a wave of green flame hissing out in a spray to burn Dominic down. But suddenly the Shadow Lord seemed to pull up short and spring to the left. Fer-guath hissed angrily, his head twisting, his right eye trying to spot Dominic again. Between the flare of the flames and his missing eye Dominic seemed to have somehow slipped past him by using his blind spots.

It's called the Shadow Blade Step, came a voice behind him. 

Fer-guath felt the burning pain as a silver blade slipped between his ribs, rupturing his liver and flooding his insides with his own blood. He bellowed in pain as Dominic twisted the klaive to put it in line with his heart. The dark spirits reacted to the call of their master, sweeping down and bursting through the Gauntlet, stepping forth into the material world as they lashed and tore at Dominic, forcing him back. Fer-guath coughed up a gout of blood as he staggered forward and sank to his knees. Behind him he heard the wild hissings of his spirits as they battled Dominic.

Get me Syntax, slay Dominic! The Master's voice rang out loudly, full of anger and rage. Malise, you sniveling worm! Continue with the ritual! Fer-guath, finish it!

Fer-guath looked up through a veil of pain to see the snarling face of The Master. He knew that if he hesitated for an instant his life would be forfeit. He nodded weakly as he used his ceremonial staff to push himself to his feet. He staggered towards Malise, The Mage and High Priest of The Maw. He nodded to him and started choking out the words of the ritual. Malise went to place his staff upon the alter for the final portion of the spell. Then paused. Fer-guath saw what he did and choked in shock.

Malise's staff was gone, in his hand he held a rubber chicken.

Malise and Fer-guath looked at each other in stunned fear, then glanced back at The Master. His eye socket's seemed to flare with an inner fire as he glared at the faded piece of yellow rubber in Malise's grasp. His lips peeled back from his teeth as he hissed in anger.

Faerie magic

Fer-guath called out to the nearest pack leader he could spot. The young ahroun looked up obediently, having rushed forward to try and engage Dominic. There are faeries here! Find them and the staff they stole. Now!!!

* * *

It's Dominic! Charlie shouted the words in surprised hope. Here, in the darkest of hours, came a ray of hope. Dominic had come, and he would have brought the tribes with him. Nearby Conner also lifted his head, the ronin's eyes narrowing as he looked at Dominic standing alone on the walkway and awaiting the charging Spirals. Behind them Charlie heard the pack of Dancers who had been left to watch them shifting eagerly.

Look there, gurgled one of them, it is he who rends the dark-

continued the nearly identical female next to him. Come now, Stinkface, what was it you said you would do to the Render if you met him again in battle?

We were told to watch the prisoners, grumbled a third.

snapped the leader as he stood up. His red eyes gleaming as he looked at Dominic, his maw twisting into a eager grin. Pugdog, go tell those fomori toads that work for Sands that they may now guard the prisoners. We have more important matters to deal with! So speaking he bellowed and charged forward, leaping out the cave mouth and dropping onto a nearby walkway. With a series of wild whoops his pack followed. Charlie glanced at the ronin as they were left alone, even for an instant.

Now's our chance, we need to break free.

mumbled the ronin morosely.

I don't know. But we have to try something! Dominic's here, we have a chance!

Does it matter? The ronin's eyes looked out onto the walkways, his gaze falling upon a platinum haired beauty in a torn dress. We are no match against the power of the Corruptor. He will claim us all.

Don't talk like that, snapped Charlie. Damnit, you look at me! The ronin's head jerked over to look at Charlie's enraged face in shock. Charlie glowered, snarling each word. You're Garou, you've been chosen to fight for Gaia. You may not like it but you've been selected to be a hero, so damnit start acting like one! Dominic once told me that a hero was a dream. That all that existed were those who did not, and those who did what no one else is willing to dobut I don't think he was right. 

Charlie took a deep breath, seeming to calm down even as he kept his gaze locked with the ronin's. 

A hero, a true hero, is someone who does what he doesn't want to do if it means doing the right thing. That's what you did in The Pit eight years ago when you attacked Quentin and Snowflake, that may be what you need to do now. Please, be a hero this one final time.

The ronin's eyes seemed to clear then, as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He looked at Charlie carefully, and for the first time his eyes seemed to release some of their pain. With a start Charlie realized that Conner's eyes weren't dark, they were bright ice blue, clear and sharp. Conner nodded his head slowly, his muscles tensed as he rose to his feet.

Evil triumphs when good men do nothing, he growled. Words spoken to me by a helpless innocent. He nodded to Charlie, his eyes burning brightly. You are right, Charlie, now is no time for old pain and regrets. We don't have much time. He spun around and presented his bound hands to Charlie's face. Try to gnaw through the ropes, quickly!

Charlie nodded and leaned forward, biting into the rough, thick ropes and trying to chew through them. As he struggled he suddenly heard shouts, yells, and a burst of gunfire from the tunnels beyond. He snarled at the thought that perhaps some fomori scum could be rushing this way even now, ready to put an end to their escape attempt. Then the clomping sounds of boots was closer then ever, he looked up in fear at the door

Hiya! Is this literally a good time for an escape? Cause here I am with these keys and this knife and all. Not that I stole the knife or anything! It's just that those soldiers had sooooo many neat toys an-

Charlie and the ronin shouted together, spooking the rambling Corax out of her long winded introduction. She grinned at them and shrugged apologetically as she rushed forward. Conner kneeled in front of her as she skidded to a stop, fumbling with a key ring gripped in one bony hand. She muttered under her breath even as she worked at unlocking his silver collar.

It looks like the tribes wimped out on us like a preschooler to a bully. Dominic is out there alone for Gaia's sake! I don't know what crazy, hair-brained, hair-assed, hair-whatever sorta plan he has going, but he needs some help and he needs it fast! Literally!

Charlie spun to look out of the cave mouth towards The Pit. He could see Dominic now. And Jo was right, Dominic was fighting alone. Dozens of winged black spirits whirled around him, screeching and clawing at him. Syntax was slung over one of his shoulders as he desperately dodged the spirits and dashed along one of the stone walkways. But the Spirals were closing in, he was running out of places to run. Charlie swallowed in fear, then he heard a click.

Dominic fights alone no longer, snarled Conner. His body surged upwards, a shining coat of rust red fur sprouting across him as he grew. The ropes about him grew tight, and then snapped apart like child's toys. His sharp ice blue eyes looked out at The Pit as a growl rumbled deep in his mighty chest. His jaw ticked upward as he eyed the scene. Then he sprang forward, his powerful body sending him sailing through the air to land lightly on one of the stone walkways. 

He roared.

Hmph, he just had to make an entrance instead of sneaking up behind them and slitting some throatsyou'll do that, right? 

Jo smirked as she grabbed at his silver collar and went to work finding the right key for it. Charlie winced as the metal pressed against his skin, burning at him painfully. Silver, the bane of the Changing Breeds, their one true weakness. He winced again as Jo tugged on it and kept working. He was amazed that she seemed unhindered by the pain that he knew touching silver should bring. Suddenly he saw a shadow behind her shift. A tall dark figure in gold rimmed glasses stepped out of it as though stepping through a doorway. Nearby two other shapes stepped into the room through the tunnel, a man in a business suit, and a black armored and helmeted guard.

Jo, behind you! Charlie shouted the warning even as he tried to rise to his feet. Jo spun around and issued a squawk of surprise. The helmeted guard quickly raised his sub-machine gun towards them, the tall black man drew out a pair of Glocks and stood ready.

Don't either of you move, sneered the man in the business suit. His young face twisted into a nasty leer as he eyed Charlie and Jo. Ah, I know you two. The boy and the bimbo who opted to wreck my towers. He frowned. I am unamused. Mr. Kaykill the woman.

Can't we talk about thi- started Jo, and then came the gunfire. 

Four sharp explosions of sound that echoed within the cave loudly. Four small bursts of red erupting out of a small torso as the owner was thrown back by the severe force of the impacts. Her overlarge boots stumbled about stupidly. Her wide eyed face was splattered with a spray of her own crimson blood. Her mouth opened, as if to still try to speak, but all that issued was another thin dribble of bright blood.

Bright waves of anger flared through Charlie as he watched her tumble forward and collapse face first to the cold stone floor. Streams of bright, vibrant blood leaked out of her in crimson rivers. He turned towards the gunman, his eyes flaring red, madness and anger clouding his thoughts.

Careful there, my boy, chuckled the businessman. You still have on your little silver neckpiece, you go wolf on us and you decapitate yourself. Also, don't think for one instant that my friends aren't loaded with silver bullets. Try anything and you're dead. The man chuckled as Charlie forced his anger back, instead staring with cold hatred at the three. Sergeant Ross, the helmeted figure glanced at his employer, go back and secure the entryway, we'll be along shortly.

Yes, Mr. Sands. The figure turned and rushed off.

Now then, Mr. Kay, what do you see here? Mr. Sands grinned at Charlie. Mr. Kay simply stood silently in the shadows, the deadly fomor quietly keeping an eye out for danger. Charlie winced as he remembered him and Dominic battling that abomination back at the Allied Chemical Plant, the shadow twisting creature had proved exceedingly dangerous. What I see here, continued Sands, is yet another way to recoup my losses. A live Garou is not easy to make captive, I think having the rights at dissecting him will ease some of the board's troubles.

Charlie cold hardly hear what was being said. All he could do was look over at the fallen form of Jo. Blood pooled around her from the four silver bullets that had hit her dead on. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him. Somehow he had never thought that Jo would be one of the casualties of this war. She had always been so happy with life, so joyous. It wasn't right that she was dead and her murderers plotted and planned over her fallen and now forever still bodywhat the hell?

He blinked in shock. Her left eye had just slit open and was staring at him. She was alive. Charlie saw her eye jerk to glance towards the two formor. He saw how both of them could still see her. Realizing what he should do, Charlie started shifting to his left, away from Jo. He growled at the fomori.

What the fuck happens if instead of going along with this I rip your stinking heads off?

Robert Sands chuckled. Oh, indeed, most amusing. He yawned and lifted his hand to his mouth. Somehow, boy, I don't think you have it in you. Mr. Kay, if you will please escort our guest?

Mr. Sands turned and walked out of the chamber, already calling to Sergeant Ross. Mr. Kay strode forward and grabbed Charlie by his tangled brown hair. He pointed one of his gun's at Charlie's face in a silent and meaningful threat. But Charlie's eyes weren't on the gun, nor did they widen in fear at the thought of the silver bullets. They were locked behind the fomor.

Jo stood up slowly and silently. Her dark eyes burning in anger, her face contorted in a look of rage that would have made any Garou proud. Small bony hands curled up like claws, and then started to change into them. Flesh seeming to melt away beneath hard, bony, talons. Her face shifted and grew longer. Her nose and jaw hardening into a massive, curved, and sharp black beak. Feathers sprouted from her arms as her clothes faded into nothingness. Her body seemed to swell up, growing from a puny five foot frame until it was slightly over six. The dark eyes were the same though, staring with intent anger at Mr. Kay's back. Suddenly the edges of the feathers seemed to shift, taking on a silvery gleam as they appeared to become almost metallic.

The massive black bird-thing surged forward. Mr. Kay spun in surprise, his eyes widening in shock at what was descending towards him. The two huge wings batted inward, and Mr. Kay's suit was sliced open as razored feathers slashed and tore at him. He staggered back under the onslaught, dropping his gun in the confusion of wildly flapping wings. 

Finally he managed to regain his senses and backhanded the bird-thing harshly. He glared at it and drew forth a silver dagger from under his torn jacket. Charlie once more noted that under his clothes Mr. Kay appeared to be nothing more than darkness and shadow. Jo suddenly flapped a wing out sharply. A large feather hissed through the air and embedded itself deeply in Mr. Kay's shoulder. He stumbled back, the knife dropping from his hand.. He scowled darkly. Suddenly he seemed to sink into the shadows around his feet. All was silent.

I hate having to do that, grumbled Jo as the strange bird thing melted back into the small dark haired girl. That jerk-off even messed up my Metallica shirt! Y'know those things dont come cheap. She turned and rushed to him with the keys once more. Let's just pretend you didn't see anything, okay?

It's literally okay if you'd just get me out of this damned collar, said Charlie as he leaned down for her. Hurry, I need to go help the others.

* * *

He dropped her painfully to the stone floor. A slash of a klaive and she was free of the chains. Syntax stood up slowly, taking stock of the situation. She was without her tools and talismans. She was half naked in the very heart of a Wyrmhole. She was surrounded on all sides by dark spirits and maddened Black Spirals. And her only ally was the man who had murdered her pack. Her gray eyes narrowed.

Though I suppose gratitude is in order for my timely rescue, I am unsure if I can properly credit you with saving my life at this particular juncture.

I can't argue with that, grunted Dominic. He towered over her, his black fur bristling with anger as he eyed the advancing Spirals. He raised Bonespur, the rune of duty inscribed upon it flashed across his features as he snarled at the incoming foes.

Do you not have a plan of some sort for this endeavor? Syntax glanced at him questioningly.

It's a work in progress.

Ah, then perhaps you need to get working. Allow me to buy you time by distracting your immediate concerns. She spun to look above her, her wild dark hair swirling about her face as she glared at the circling spirits. She raised one of her hands, blue lights pulsed around her fingers, flashing and gleaming brighter as she looked at the bloodthirsty banes. Begone from this place, Gaia commands you through me!

Many of the dark spirits hissed in anger. Their forms wavering and shifting, becoming less clear. Syntax glared at them as they suddenly dissolved away into nothingness. Seeing some of their support destroyed, the Black Spiral's roared and charged forward. Dominic turned to meet those coming from his side of the walkway. Syntax frowned as she watched some come at her. Their feet pounding on the long stone walkway as they rushed at her. Below them the gleaming depths of The Pit shimmered and bubbled menacingly. She waited for them to come closer.

You have made a tactical error in this assault, she declared to the Dancer charging in front, which shall now be demonstrated to you in your final moments. She looked down at the walkway, sending her thoughts racing out to meet the twisted and slow thoughts of the stone elementals that formed the bridge. Her mind met theirs in a sudden and brutal spiritual battle. But they were slow and uncaring, she was fueled by the anger of her abduction. Her eyes flared open as she snarled at the approaching Dancers. 

The rock beneath their feet suddenly gave way. The thick stone breaking apart into massive chunks that plummeted down into the slime of The Pit. The Spirals in the lead wailed in fear as they found themselves without any support. Behind them their fellows desperately skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding the same fate. They watched the others plummet into the green ooze of The Pit. Saw their fur burn, and their flesh flow like water as it shifted, bubbled, and mutated wildly. The death howls of those who had fallen lasted a long time.

Behind her she heard the bellows and howls of the Dancers as they rushed up to meet Dominic. But he stood tall and firm, his klaive dripping splattering trails of his enemy's blood as he fended them off. Dominic had picked a good defensive spot. It was one of the higher walkways, isolated from the rest. But Syntax knew they could only hold it for so long. Something had to give, and soon. Or else he might as well have simply joined her in death at the hands of the Spirals.


	17. Fall of the Heroes

Well golly, I turn around and suddenly I have a pair of e-mails abusing me for not posting. Well, sorry for that, and thanks for kicking my backside into gear. So, to reward you I'm presenting one super-sized chapter spectacular! Wheee! That's right, it's almost all here! In this chapter Connor faces Endelon and Snowflake. Dominic goes toe-to-toe with Kendar. And Jo says literally! We also shall witness the coming of the dread Tyranthraxus. And, as in the title, by the end of this chapter a hero *shall* fall.

Read on and enjoy;

Chapter Sixteen: Fall of the Heroes  


Endelon had spotted at the last moment that had been simply a trick, much like the illusory images the Shadow Lord had summoned back at the lake. He had come to a sudden halt, his dark blue eyes darting about as he looked for the real thing. Then Dominic had struck, brazenly assaulting the temple in the middle of the ritual. Endelon spun and leaped down onto a lower walkway, darting along it as he headed towards the bold Garou hero.

His black robes swirled around him as he ran along one of the higher walkways, watching as Dominic carried Syntax swiftly along a lower one. Endelon grinned as he matched paces with Dominic. His robes billowed outward as he reached underneath to draw his blades. Dominic would be his, and to him the glory of destroying the Render, greatest of the Garou of Detroit. With such a victory under his belt who could say what he could achieve? He allowed his thoughts to briefly flash to Snowflake, to how he had felt as her flesh had pressed against his while they hunted together. Then his cold blue eyes locked once more on Dominic, ready to end this. The Shadow Lord had chosen his battleground, he had trapped himself. There was nowhere else to run.

The massive leathery arm shot out in front of Endelon as Kendar charged up along another pathway. The war leader's flaming yellow eyes peered down at Endelon. You overstep yourself old friend, I am war leader. Dominic is mine.

It is you who overstep yourself, snarled Endelon sharply, it was I who cut him first at the lake, he is mine by right. Kendar paused to consider this. His massive chest expanding as he drew in a long, deep breath. His powerful arms drew inward as he frowned down at Endelon. Endelon stared back at him, unintimidated despite the size difference. In the past he had often granted Kendar the right to hunt kills that belonged to him. But now, with such a prize before them, there was no way he would give up his rightful claim.

I am sorry, my friend. One of Kendar's tree trunk like arms swung out suddenly. Endelon was caught by surprise, the furious blow slamming into his chest and sending him sailing into the air. He spun about helplessly, his black robes flailing about him as he fell, Kendar's words reverberating against his ears. But there comes a time when glory overrides loyalty and friendship.

Kendar twisted, his dark eyes casting about quickly as he plummeted towards the green depths of The Pit. Options and solutions flashed through his head like wildfire. He had a solution, but he would need to strike perfectly. It must be fast, yet powerful, else it wouldn't work. He allowed a half breath to focus himselfthen he acted. His arm shot out suddenly, the blade of his klaive biting deep into the stone of another walkway as he tumbled past. There was a sudden jerk as his blade arrested his fall, leaving him hanging over The Pit, his klaive his only lifeline. As he pulled himself back up Endelon heard Kendar's bellow of challenge to Dominic. Dark blue eyes narrowed in betrayed anger. 

* * *

This way! She must have gone this way!

Hurry, we'll cut he- Agggggghhhh!

What the hell? Marbles?

Get moving you idiots, The Master needs the staff to finish his ritual!

I stepped in some chewing gum.

This bitch is starting to-

-really piss me off!

Come back here you damned faerie!

Lord Juvariel Cruss couldn't help but smile to himself as he heard the wild cries and confused wails of the Black Spirals. Through it all could also be heard the wild giggles of Puck as she led them on a merry chase through their own tunnels. Cruss himself waited by the underground stream he and Puck had discovered. It was by this that they planned to make good their escape once Puck had stolen an important part of the ritual and hopefully brought it to a dead standstill.

His black gloved hands kept curling into fists as he nervously bounced on the balls of his feet, not exactly pleased with how much time it was taking for Puck to get back to him. His silver eyes anxiously watching the two tunnels that lead into the cavern he was currently waiting at. But for the continued howls of failure from the Spirals he would have feared the worst.

Suddenly a small figure in baggy red overalls and a bright green shirt came leaping and bounding out of one of the tunnels. Her wild, multicolored, eyes caught his as a triumphant and mischievous grin spread across her face. The wild blue, green, and purple feathers that formed her hair lifted up proudly as she raised her arm to show him the black staff gripped therein. Despite himself, Cruss smiled at her cheerful victory antics.

Then his face froze in horror. Looming forth from the second tunnel, stepping out directly behind the tiny pooka trickster, came the hulking shape of a Black Spiral Dancer. Its eyes gleamed bright red as black lips curled back to reveal a fanged grin of triumph. Puck saw the look on Cruss' face and blinked in surprise, spinning about as if in slow motion to see what had disturbed him. The massive black arm of the Spiral rose up, claws flexed and curved inward.

Puck's eyes widened in surprise.

Cruss screamed in horror.

The Spiral struck with a wild roar that deafened him. Streams of red blood trailed out of Puck's body to chase after the claws as they tore through her midsection. The tiny form was tossed through the air like a broken plaything. The staff clattered to the ground as Puck crashed down amongst the rubble and rocks strewn about on the rough floor. Cruss dashed forward, unable to believe what he had just seen. He skidded to a stop, dropping to one knee and looking down at the pale, too pale, face of the once lively pooka. 

The words were choked out of him, he felt as though his own guts had been torn open. He looked at the deep gouges that ripped through her, each almost as wide across as her thin, frail arms. The wild array of colors she usually wore were now all being washed in a bright red stream of blood. She smiled weakly at him. Motioned him closer.

I should tell youmost important questionmost important question everI havethe answer

he felt tears well in his eyes as he watched her struggle for words. She smiled softly as she closed her own eyes, her body going limp as she spoke the words.

It crossed the roadto get to thethe other side

She tried to laugh, but instead passed out from the pain. Cruss looked up through a veil of his own tears. He wouldn't have expected to feel like this. Thatthat stupid, idiotic, crazy, damn pooka! If only she hadn't rushed off all the time, if only she hadn't insisted on helping! Damn insufferable little twit! How dare she make him care about her crazy, wild, insane little life! He, a great noble of a grand house, weeping like a woman for some oh so common commoner. He grabbed at his cape and tore it, attempting to make some bandages to help bind her wounds. Cruss snarled as he heard the laughter, he looked up, his eyes blazing.

Haw haw haw! Lookit that Stinkface. Looks to me like I went and killed what you never could. Should I feel all fuckin' proud I wasted a goddamn faerie? The one who had attacked Puck lifted his bloodstained claws and licked them with a bright pink tongue. Mmmm, she tastes like apples. Hehehehe.

Shut it, snarled the leader of four more of the creatures that now stormed into the cavern. Two of them scampered forward, the smaller, sleeker ones grabbing at the staff eagerly and chattering between themselves as they rushed it back to their chief. He grabbed it with a snarl of pleasure. We have what we came for, let's hurry back, there may still be time for real glory. He then chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. And since you're so good at it, Quiggis, why don't you and Tick finish those two faerie freaks off for me?

Cruss didn't understand all the wild, feral blather. But he did clearly understand the two shapes that turned towards him and Puck. The killer and one smaller friend. They were the two who had been chosen to finish the job. He looked down at Puck's pale face, she was too weak to risk moving, if he picked her up it could very well mean her death. Nor, with the Spirals here, did he have time to try and bandage her wounds more effectively. He lifted his head and glared at the approaching Spirals, his eyes burning with anger.

Begone from here, you shall not have her life, so I swear.

Wow, big fuckin' words from a little whelp faerie, snarled the larger of the two in the incomprehensible growling language of the Spirals. He advanced slowly, his smaller comrade circling to the right and snickering as it gnashed its fangs together. Cruss stood up slowly, his eyes burning with anger. He gripped the hilt of his sword as he allowed the full power of The Dreaming to flow into him. He felt the rush of the ancient energies that powered his race. His golden hair and silver cape suddenly began to be tossed in an invisible wind. Both Spirals paused in wonder as they saw gleaming streams of golden fire spring up about him, crawling over him yet causing no harm. Cruss glared at them.

You shall not harm Lady Puck as long as I still draw breath. Come then creatures, let me remind you why tales of old spoke not only of the beauty of the fae, but of our terrible wrath as well.

Without waiting for them to have time to consider his words, Cruss sprang. Leaping to the side and rushing straight at the smaller Spiral. Its eyes widened in surprise as Cruss drew his blade in a single, smooth, sweeping motion. The razor sharp silver sword sliced deeply into the beast's neck, half severing its head in a single stroke. It managed a gurgled gasp of shock as it collapsed backwards to the ground. Cruss jerked his blade free of the stinking thing and spun about to face the charge of the second.

He dashed forward, eager to meet it in its headlong rush. His eyes focused on the blood spattered right hand that had dared to strike Puck. His hands squeezed tighter around the hilt of his blade as he shifted his grip. The Spiral howled as it swung its arm out, claws seeking to pluck his head from his shoulders. But Cruss lifted his blade suddenly and braced himself as he turned towards the approaching blow.

The Spiral's wail of agony was music to his ears. Its arm smashed hard into his blade, the force of its own swing helping his sword shear through flesh and bone. Cruss was tossed back by the impact, but somersaulted in midair and landed nimbly on his feet. The Spiral whimpered as it clutched at the severed stump of its right arm. Cruss grinned looking down at the clawed hand that lay on the rocky ground.

That was the price for daring to touch a ladythe price for harming her shall be much worse.

The Spiral's eyes flared bright red as it charged in. Its clawed hand moving in a blur as it slashed at him. Cruss retreated quickly before it, barely managing to stay one step ahead of the enraged creature. He was suddenly jerked to the side as it managed a glancing hit to his shoulder, ripping through his blue tunic and scraping its claws across his silvery mithril mail shirt. He stumbled and fell to the ground.

Above him the Spiral roared in victory as it lunged forward, its jaws gaping open, its fangs gleaming wickedly. Cruss grabbed his sword and shoved it towards the beast blindly, praying for his life yet knowing it was too late. The jaws clamped shut with a snap, spittle and blood flecking across Cruss' face.

He blinked.

Blood gushed and sprayed down his arm, soaking his blue tunic in a thick wash of gore. The Spiral had impaled itself on his blade even as it had sought his life. The great black beast managed one last snarl of outrage before slumping forward. Cruss almost giggled in relief as the huge beast collapsed atop him. He let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and thanked whatever gods of fate had seen fit to spare him. Then he realized the ungainly creature was still on top of him. He struggled and pushed at it to little avail.

Why does this never happen to the hero in the storybooks, he muttered as he tried to squirm out from under the corpse of his defeated foe.

* * *

Render!!! It is your time to die now!

Dominic looked up as Kendar the Head Collector, War Chief of the Black Spirals, stormed forward. His eyes blazed with yellow light, his lips were peeled back from massive dagger like teeth. In his hand he gripped the hilt of his giant sword and swung it through the air. The faces carved upon it wailed and cried in a maddened chorus, their fanged maws seeming to cry out for blood. The other Black Spirals fell back, allowing Kendar to pass. Grinning eagerly as they watched him approach Dominic.

Dominic waited quietly, his dark eyes narrowed and watching his coming foe. Blood stained his fur and dripped from his blade, some of it his blood, some of it the blood of fallen Spirals. Behind him stood Syntax, her dark hair plastered to her face by sweat as she continued to battle against the dark spirits that were swarming about them. Dominic raised Bonespur, the green lights of The Pit gleaming off the blade and reflecting against the runes inscribed upon it. A glinting image of the rune of duty flashed across Dominic's face.

Then, with a roar, Kendar surged forward. His great blade hissing through the air in a massive sweep. Dominic jerked back, retreating as Kendar fell into the figure eight pattern of attack once more. His great blade sweeping down, across, then up, back, and down again. He advanced with a toothy sneer as Dominic retreated before him.

What will you do now, Render? There is no more space to maneuver, no space to run.

He was right. The walkway was too narrow for Dominic to slip past Kendar like he had last time. Retreat wasn't even a true solution, since Syntax had collapsed the walkway. Dominic was retreating towards Syntax, and then a sheer drop into the diseased filth of The Pit. Kendar chuckled ominously as he advanced.

You beat me last time through luck, but you shall not do so again. I am better then you are Render! I am Kendar! I am unstoppable!

* * *

Lord Fer-guath! Stinkface charged back into The Maw, dashing amongst the fallen pillars as he approached the site of the ritual. He grinned as he saw The Master look up and see him and his pack approaching, he knew this would mean honor for himself and his packmates. He raised the black staff clutched in his clawed hand. Lord Fer-guath, I have it! 

Fer-guath looked up weakly, his green gleaming eye seemed hazy and unsure. Stinkface noted the wound on the aged theurge's back, and the stream of blood coursing from it across the ceremonial robes. The theurge had obviously been using his powers, for he looked weak and exhausted. The source of his agitation was clear, on a distant walkway stood the Glass Walker theurge, her gray eyes flashing dangerously as she battled Fer-guath's summoned spirits. The Mage scampered forward, his eyes eager as he grabbed the staff from Stinkface.

Yes, yes, good, good. With this ritual can be finished, yes! The Master glanced over at Stinkface, the eyeless gaze seeming to be pleased with this turn of events. His mouth twisted into an odd smile of sorts as he nodded. Stinkface's chest swelled in pride at this honor gained. He glanced back at his pack to see if they too had noted his reward. As he did so he spotted a russet furred wolf charging along a walkway towards The Maw temple. It snarled as it rushed forward. The Master turned and saw the onrushing wolf too, a sick grin appearing on his face.

One last chance at redemption, old friend? I think not. He glared at Stinkface and pointed. Slay him, do not allow him to interrupt the ritual! Stinkface nodded, here at last was a chance at true glory. Treeshaker and Rockcrusher hissed in glee. Pugdog snarled uneasily. Stinkface turned and ran towards the approaching ronin.

The warbling war cry echoed out of his throat as he ran forward. His arms out to his sides and claws ready. As he approached the ronin came to a stop, his arms dropping by his sides as he seemed to wait for them. He was calm, too calm. Stinkface felt a moment of concern pass through him, worry that perhaps the ronin was capable of beating him and his pack.

The ronin spun in surprise as three figures sprang from an upper walkway and dropped towards him. Gorefist and her pack. Stinkface snarled as he quickly rushed forward again, eager to catch the ronin unaware and rip him apart. Rapes-the-World and Fangmouth were in the lead, the two experienced warriors coming in quickly. The ronin spun to meet them, his clawed hands moving in circular blurs as he blocked their blows.

Gorefist's scarred face twisted into an eager grin as she raised her hand and pointed it towards the ronin. Rapes-the-World and Fangmouth both ducked and moved to the side, having been expecting this attack. With a hiss Gorefist's talons shot from her fingertips and slashed through the air. But the ronin suddenly seemed to melt away, shifting in one instant into his lupus form. The small wolf only a fourth of the size of his crinos form.

With the ronin out of the way the claws came rushing for Stinkface. He bellowed in fear and dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding the claws. Not so lucky were Treeshaker and Rockcrusher, both of the smaller ragabesh wailed in pain as the claws tore deeply into them.

Without missing a beat the ronin sprang forward, his jaws closing around Fangmouth's throat as the ronin once more shifted back to his towering crinos form. Jaws ripped and shredded through flesh as Fangmouth's head was torn from his shoulders. Grabbing onto the wrist of the dead warrior, the ronin swung it around and slammed it hard into Rapes-the-World's chest. The second Black Spiral Dancer stumbled from the impact and toppled over the edge of the walkway, plummeting down onto another stone path far below with a bone crunching crash. With a snarl Stinkface and Gorefist both charged forward at the same time.

* * *

The ronin sprang towards the charging male, his hand snapping out, claws hooking into the flesh of the Black Spiral's throat and ripping it apart as his leap carried him past his foe. He landed lightly, spinning around and snapping out his other hand in a lightning fast blow to the beast's back, splitting his ribcage and sending him crashing forward into the female. She had to waste an instant shoving the stunned Dancer aside, and in that instant the ronin was on her. His claws tore deeply into her shoulder as he grabbed her arm. Then, spinning about, he jammed his shoulder into her armpit and used her arm like a lever to toss her into the air and off the walkway. For the choking and coughing young pup at his feet he simply spared an instant to kick him sharply in the ribs and also knock him off the walkway. He then spun and continued for The Maw, intent on stopping the ritual.

Impressive, ronin. Or do you prefer Conner? The black robed figure sprang up onto the walkway from a lower one. The black robe wrapping his body fluttered about him as he turned to watch the ronin. His blue eyes seemed dead and unemotional, even as his face twisted into a scowl. You and I have an unfinished duel to conclude. His voice was a soft whisper as he pulled back his robe and drew forth two blackened blades. Silver etchings glittered on them as he twirled them about his fingers. Don't worry, this won't take but a moment.

The ronin's eyes narrowed as he watched the sparkling klaives. This Black Spiral was decidedly deadly, and nothing to be taken lightly. He watched the Dancer's movements, they were sure and smooth, the movements of a skilled warrior. This one would be difficult, it would cost him precious time. He glanced up at where Quentin and the others had started the ritual again. Time he didn't have.

He and the Black Spiral Dancer looked up at the sound of the voice. Snowflake stood above them, standing casually upon one of the twisting stone pathways. She held in her hands his silver battle claws, the light of them reflected in her eyes as she grinned. It seems odd that Master Endelon is armed while you are not. She tossed the claws down, they landed with a clatter in front of his feet. Arm yourself, Conner. Let us have a true test of who is the better warrior.

Endelon's eyes remained the same, unreadable and calm, but his mouth curled into a smirking grin. Yes, arm yourself, Conner. It will make no difference.

Conner shifted down into his human form. His icy blue eyes glanced up at Snowflake as he picked up the claws. He shrugged his shoulders, pulling off the bloodstained and tattered trench coat and allowing it to fall to the ground. His muscled torso gleamed in the green glow of The Pit as he strapped on his blades. He spared one more glance at Snowflake as he reached up and brushed at the strip of white fur that tied his hair back into a ponytail. Then he jerked his jaw slightly upward, the pale twin crescent shaped scars on his throat standing out from his otherwise tanned skin. He turned his attention back to Endelon, his gaze steady as he let his hands fall to his side, ready for anything.

Endelon pulled off his black robe, casting it aside uncaringly. He remained in his crinos form, patches of black fur poking out from between the filth coated and bloodstained bandages that were wrapped tightly about his slim body. The twin klaives in his hands danced lightly as they suddenly became wreathed in green flames. Endelon's mouth twisted into a grin, his needle-like fangs shining sharp and deadly. His deep blue eyes seemed to finally gleam with a small touch of emotion, and it was eagerness.

There was a moment of calm. The calm before the storm.

Then they both struck.

Endelon came in fast and hard. His style wild and full of sweeping blows that arced through the air with fierce flashes of green flame. Conner's moves were sharp and defined, the subtle and sharp moves of a shifting breeze. He turned and twisted, never accepting the full brunt of any of Endelon's strikes, waiting for an opening. For his part, Endelon's practiced dance and flurry of attacks left no place for Conner to exploit.

Then Endelon twirled about and lashed out sharply with his left blade, the weapon streaking down towards Conner's gut. His other blade sweeping up and over the first strike towards his face. Conner jerked back, his claws sweeping in opposite directions to block both attacks. Even as he did so he reversed the movements and sent his claws stabbing inward, at the same moment shifting into his crinos form, using the extra power and reach he gained by doing so.

Endelon snarled in pain as he sprang back, a series of bloody holes cut into his chest. His eyes narrowed as he again dropped into a defensive posture. Conner raised his own blades, the silver points stained crimson, as he advanced.

Conner charged, faking a leap forward. Endelon raised his blades higher to block the expected leap, allowing Conner to rush in closer. There was a confused flurry of claws and flaming klaives. Silver streaks and green trails of flame slashing about before their eyes. Then Conner grabbed a hold of Endelon's chest, his fingers curling about the bandages tightly. With a snarl he turned, shifting down into his glabro form, that of the beast man. The throw suddenly having a lower axis point left Endelon off balance and he was easily tossed hard to the ground directly in front of Conner.

Once again using the Rising Storm maneuver, Conner transformed back up into his crinos form while striking downward. Endelon was sprawled on the ground, and with the added force and power to his blow Conner planned a quick end to the fight.

But Endelon's arm shot upward, his klaive wedging between the blades of Conner's claws and bringing the blow to a stop inches from his face. Endelon then twisted his weapon, pulling Conner off balance as Endelon's other blade slashed up and cut painfully into his gut. 

Conner jerked back as Endelon spun to his feet in a blur of slashing knife blows. Conner tried to retreat in order to plan another attack, but Endelon kept coming, slashing about in a swirling dance of attack. Silver and green sparks flashed and burst about them as klaive met claw in ever greater blows.

As Conner staggered back he knew he was in trouble. Never before had he met a foe so skilled at combat. Endelon's klaives seemed near extensions of himself. They moved in accordance to his will in blindingly fast strikes that Conner could barely follow. His own defenses were starting to weaken, his arms becoming more sluggish. Endelon's cold eyes stared unmercifully at him as he pressed his attack, twisting about to force Conner to approach the side of the walkway, cutting off retreat.

Endelon struck fast and suddenly, both his klaives interlocking with Conner's claws and tossing them out wide. He then slid them free and snarled as he drove them forward in a double thrust lunge for Conner's chest. Conner desperately swung his claws inward and drove them down to block the attack. His claws caught on the hilts of the klaives and deflected them downward, where they gouged deeply and painfully into his leg. Conner growled in pain as Endelon twisted the knives, apparently intent on slicing Conner's leg open and rendering him helpless.

As he looked into the cool and deadly calm eyes across from him Conner saw Endelon's one mistake, and one weakness. He was a smaller wolf, weaker then his fellows. So he had trained himself with his blades. Trained and trained until such time as he was a warrior without match. But he had forgotten one thing in his singular quest for skill.

That the greatest weapon of all is your own body.

Conner's head snapped forward, lunging over the locked weapons as his jaw opened and his teeth bit down into Endelon's neck. The Spiral had been so focused on the weapons, he had forgotten that all Garou were armed by Gaia herself. Endelon snarled as Conner's head jerked up, tearing flesh and tossing the Dancer off balance. Claws jerked apart, tossing Endelon's arms out wide. Conner's claws arced out in a streak of silver, ripping through bandages and slashing bloody swaths across Endelon's chest. The force of the blow tossed the unbalanced master assassin backand with a snarl of shock and outrage he tumbled over the edge. 

Conner grinned as he stumbled to his feet, his left leg holding him unsteadily as bright red blood gushed from the wound. He ticked his jaw upwards as he turned to once more look towards The Maw and the ritual. He raised his bloody claws and prepared to rush there and end this madness. Then, amidst the fluttering of a ragged blue summer dress, a slim figure with wild white hair dropped down between him and the temple. Conner felt his heart skip a beat as she grinned at him wickedly.

Not yet, my love. Surely you didn't think our business was done?

* * *

Robert Sands dashed through the tunnels. Ahead of him Sergeant Ross and Mr. Kay made sure the tunnels were clear. This entire operation had rather quickly gone down the crapper. It had become apparent that The Master considered him and his to be second rate flunkies in the great scheme. Robert Sands didn't intend to be anyone's flunky. Then had come that accursed attempt to kidnap the wolves, the only problem was that damned girl had proved to be some sort of bird freak capable of ripping up Mr. Kay long enough for her and the wolf to escape. Not good, not good at all. Why, if he only-

Mr. Kay managed to look up in surprise as he rounded the corner. Then the massive clawed hand clamped down upon his head, Robert Sands saw claws ripping through flesh as the massive werewolf rushed forward, smashing Mr. Kay's head so hard into the stone wall behind him that rock spilt and shattered. In the next instant a massive clawed hand was ripping into Mr. Kay's gut and tearing out through his back. Mr. Kay collapsed, disappearing amongst the shadows. Mr. Sands knew he would be too injured to do much of anything for some time.

Sergeant Ross died in the amount of time it took Robert Sands to realize what had happened to Mr. Kay. The fomor commander raised his gun to fire, but by then the great tawny furred and bloodstained beast had spun around. A clawed paw slashed into the helmeted head as it ripped it clean off Sergeant Ross' shoulders. The last of his guards collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap as the mad beast turned its gaze on him. Robert Sands shouted in fear as he turned and ran. Dashing down tunnels blindly.

Behind him he heard the wild howl of the creature as it came after him.

Suddenly the howl was answered by a cry ahead of him.

Robert Sands came to a sudden stop as two figures emerged from a passage in front of him. One was a massive brown werewolf with a scar running along its cheek. It snarled at him. Beside it was the small figure of the girl, her pale face eerily illuminated by the large glowing spider that hovered over her shoulder. She waved. With a growl of success the first wolf leapt into the passage behind him, blood dripping from its claws as it came to a stop. The brown wolf looked up and growled happily.

gushed the girl, her large dark eyes gleaming. Good to see you could make it, literally that is! Robert Sands glanced uneasily from one wolf to the other, doubtful he could defeat both and not particularly wanting to put himself at any risk in the first place. Suddenly the girl glanced up at the spider as it chattered at her. She turned to the massive brown werewolf. Charlie! Go follow Blue Storm now! Syntax needs your help to stop the ritual. Don't argue, just go! Leona and I will catch up.

The blue spider swiveled about and soared down the tunnel back towards The Pit. The large brown shape rushing after it. The girl turned back towards him, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pistol. With a mutter of annoyance Robert recognized it as a standard issue sidearm of his men, obviously she had managed to deal with a couple of them and make off with some of their gear. Of course, the gun couldn't hurt him. But he would keep that to himself, for now.

Okay, Mr. Stinky-no-good-bad-person, she chirped as she pointed the gun at him. I'm sure my large wolf friend here would love to rip your head from your shoulders. The tawny furred werewolf growled in agreement. But, it's your lucky day because I'm the nice part of this little gang of ours. She pulled out a set of handcuffs, also stolen from Robert's men. Let's slap you in these, and be on our way. She walked towards him. Just turn around and put your hands behind your back.

Robert Sands smiled an easy smile and did as she asked. He glanced over at the wolf which was watching him carefully. Oh, this was too easy. Here was the perfect opportunity to get the test subjects he would need to bargain his way out of any problems with Pentex for his other failures in this operation. A werewolf and a shape shifting bird-girl had to be worth much to the researchers. He heard her tiny footsteps approach. Felt the metal click around his wrists. He grinned.

To the shocked surprise of the werewolf and werebird it must have looked like Robert Sands' entire body went blurry and out of focus. In the next blink of an eye he was facing them, without ever seeming to have turned around. For Robert it was simply a minor application of his powers. Even easier was to allow his hands to slide out of the handcuffs, which dropped to the ground with a clatter. He laughed as he lunged forward, grabbing onto the werebird and wresting the gun from her grip. He pressed it to her head as he glared up at the werewolf.

Don't move, wolf-bitch! I doubt even this silver resistant little bimbo here would survive a bullet entering her brain.

I'd just as soon not have to find out, whimpered the girl as she tugged and pried at his arm, but it was to no avail, Robert Sands' grip was like stone. He pressed the gun in harder against the girl's head as she continued to whimper and make little mewling sounds as she stared at the gun. He grinned at the werewolf.

Look, she's smart enough to be scared, you should too. Now, here's the deal. Return to human shape and go pick up those handcuffs. We're going for a little trip the three of us.

"Leona, suddenly said the girl, her voice calm, all signs of fear having left her. Please just rip his throat out.

* * *

Beg me, Render! Beg me not to take your worthless life! Kendar's laughter echoed about the cavern, mixing with the strange mad chants of the ritual. Behind him Dominic heard Syntax breath in sharply.

They near the final stages of the ritual!

Do you hear her, Render? Your time is over! The massive Black Spiral Dancer stormed forward, his muscles flexing with each mighty swing of his blade. The mad howls of it wailing about the chamber as Dominic continued to retreat. Kendar laughed again. Dominic felt himself bump into Syntax. His eyes narrowed as he realized he was out of room. What now, Render? Where is this great hero we have heard so spoken of in song and story? You are nothing! You hear me, Render, you are nothing!

Kendar bellowed in laughter as he advanced. His yellow eyes gleaming with madness. His blade hissing through the air, begging for blood. Behind him Dominic could see the other Spirals, eagerly watching as their war leader prepared to slay the two lone Garou. Pressed up against his back he felt Syntax gasping for breath, her body shaking in exhaustion as she struggled to fend off Fer-guath's dark powers. He ground his teeth together in frustration.

If you are planning to do something, gasped Syntax, do it quickly. The ritual-

I know about the damn ritual, snapped Dominic coldly as he watched Kendar come closer, a few more steps and they would either die under his blade or by plummeting into the waste of The Pit. He raised his klaive, the rune of duty shining across his features as he eyed Kendar. There was no way he could possibly defend against the mighty Black Spiral, he was too far outmatched in power, size, endurance, and time. So, if he didn't have the ability to defend, that left only a sudden attack that could pierce Kendar's defenses instantlyit was a small chance, but that was better then no chance at all.

Come now, Render, your cause is lost, as are you. You shall die here!

No, I plan to die in a very warm bed! 

Dominic's arm shot forward, and a streak of silver sped from his hand.

Kendar's yellow eyes widened in surprise as the missile barely slipped past his sweeping blade and slammed into his neck. With a gurgled roar Kendar staggered, the klaive embedded to the hilt in his throat.

Dominic sprang forward in a blur of black and white fur. He grabbed onto Bonespur's hilt and jerked it out of Kendar's neck even as he swept up with his other arm and smashed his forearm into Kendar's throat. The Dancer's head jerked back from the powerful blow, leathery flesh ripping and tearing around his wound as blood sprayed out of it to coat Dominic's face. Kendar toppled to the ground, half rolling and half tumbling back down the walkway until he crashed up against the shocked legs of his packmates. 

They looked down in shock at Kendar as he grabbed at his throat in an attempt to halt the gushing flow of blood. He propped his sword against the ground and shakily pushed himself to his feet. His yellow eyes burned with hatred as he stumbled back. Then, he turned and staggered for the safety of the nearby tunnels. The Black Spirals glanced uneasily at themselves, then heard the mad bellows.

Who's next!?! Dominic stood before them, coated in the blood of their war leader. His dark eyes glared at them as he raised Bonespur, its silver light now shining through a thick coating of Kendar's blood, making it seem to glow like molten red metal. Who else wishes to face the Render!?!

As one the Black Spiral Dancers started to stumble back from the fearsome sight. Each hoping one of the others would be the first to charge up that blood soaked stone path and face the fearsome monster whose name was spoken of in whispers within their tunnels. But none would charge.

As a pack the taint of terror passed through them, and they turned and fled after their war leader.

Dominic grunted in surprise at their flight. He then glanced back at Syntax. Her torn black bodysuit clung to her sweating body. Her short, shaggy black hair lay plastered against her stern face. She glared across the expanse of The Pit at the slumped figure of Fer-guath, his green eye gleaming at them in hatred.

Dominic could also see on a walkway that led to the collapsed ruins of the temple two figures locked in deadly combat. The first was Conner, apparently Jo had done her job of freeing the prisoners. The secondhe blinked, the second appeared to be Snowflake. But, she was dead, slain by Conner eight years ago in this very chamber. He scowled as he glanced back at The Maw, where the ritual was nearing completion.

he snarled, we have to stop the ritual, now!

I am aware of that, she said softly, her eyes still focused on Fer-guath. Steps are being taken even now, but you should get down there to help.

Dominic didn't waste time to argue, who knew whether she was just cowardly avoiding the battle or truly helping? In either case his skills would be needed down there. He turned and dashed off along the walkways, only praying there was still time.

* * *

Leona, just do it, I'm not worried. Leona listened to the words spoken so calmly by Jo as the gun was pressed to her head. The gunman snarled in surprise, looking down at his hostage incredulously.

What are you, an idiot?

Come on, Leona. We don't have all day. The ritual, they need you to help stop it. Leona looked into Jo's wide dark eyes and didn't see a trace of fear in them. It shocked her that she was suddenly so awed by the courage of one who but a little while ago she had thought of as the traitor to the tribes. For surely if he fired the gun into her head Jo would quite likely die. It was certainly possible for a Garou, or any of the Changing Breeds to shrug off gunfire as though it were nothing. But, such a serious wound could even spell doom for a fearsome Garou ahroun, much less a yappy bird spy.

Just do what I say, wolf-bitch, and your idiot friend won't get hurt. Leona felt her shoulders sag slightly. She was unsure of what to do. Surrender was never an option, but neither was betraying a friend. The man shook Jo. And you, shut up.

Oh, come on, snapped Jo as she stamped her foot. Is it expecting too much for a Garou to want to start a stupid fight? Usually I have to talk you walking shag carpets out of stupid attacks. And if ever I saw a stupid attack, this was it! 

Damnit, shut up! The man shook Jo again, shouting at her in frustration. Leona's head snapped up, her eyes flashed as she snarled dangerously, feeling anger and rage course through her at hearing Jo's wild insults. What the hell was that idiot Corax's problem? 

Ooooh, lookit that! I made the dumb little wolfie mad. Do you think she'll find it in her to manage to rip off a head, or will she just go widdle on a fire hydrant?

The man's eyes widened in shock as he looked down at his captive and pressed the gun so hard against her head it tilted it to the side. Don't you EVER shut up!?!

Leona bellowed in anger, her roar filling the cavern. She'd show that stupid little buzzard what a Garou could do if it wanted to! Powerful leg muscles launched her through the air straight towards the gunman. He snarled in anger as he pulled the trigger of his gun.

Click.

What the fuck? Robert Sands blinked in surprise. Leona's claws tore deeply into his throat, her hand closing down as she tore at his flesh. She sailed past him, landing lightly and snarling in glee as she saw his body collapse to the floor.

Should I have mentioned Syntax once taught me how to make machines stop working? Jo smirked as she pulled herself to her feet. Sorry about some of the insults, but you justwhat the hell?

Leona followed Jo's gaze to the fallen figure of the man. Instead of being drenched in his own blood there was simply sand pouring out of the wound on his neck. She looked down at her hand and watched small particles of sand sift through her fingers.

Oh, come on now, snickered a dry voice. Leona looked up in horror as the fomor climbed to his feet, his neck whole and intact. You didn't expect me to be easy to kill now, did you? Im a corporate executive. We dont die, we just move to Maui.

Leona snarled and sprang forward, planning on ending this quickly. Her arm shot forward, slamming hard into his chest. Buther hand penetrated too easily. She glanced down in shock as she saw that his chest had become a shifting mass of sand. Suddenly the sand hardened, becoming as solid as rock. Leona tried to jerk her arm out, but it was stuck.

Stupid fucking fleabags, snarled the fomor as he swung out his arm and backhanded Leona across the face. Her head snapped to the side roughly, the force of his blow had been incredible. She staggered as he swung his hand back around and punched her in the face. Her lip split open as one of her teeth was battered loose, blood sprayed from her mouth. You couldn't have made it easy on me? Do you have any idea how this operation is going to look on my personal records?

Leona bellowed in anger, grabbing her trapped arm and heaving upward with her whole body. She lifted the fomor into the air and slammed him hard into a wall. As she swung back she was jerked to a stop. His back had seemed to fuse with the stone wall. He chuckled at her as he grabbed onto her arm and pushed down while at the same instant jerking up with his knee. His kneecap was like the hardest of stones, it struck the joint in her arm and Leona screamed as it shattered. His chest suddenly opened up, and she collapsed backwards as her broken arm was freed.

Think about this, you tree-fucking backwoods freak. He released himself from the wall and dropped lightly to his feet. His hand reached out for her, his arm stretching out like a snake as he grabbed onto her throat. She lashed up with her left hand and slashed her claws into his arm. Like before it went soft, and then hardened like stone around her fist, trapping it. You very likely cost me my shot at making junior executive this year. His hand seemed to dissolve into mobile sand, it ground and snaked between her teeth and started to pour down her throat. Leona's eyes bugged out in fear as she felt herself begin choking to death. I was going to even get a key to the executive washroom back at the corporate headquarters, he lamented as she gagged on the sand gushing down her gullet.

The three gunshots echoed loudly in the enclosed tunnel. They slapped harmlessly through the fomor's sandy body and hit the wall behind him. He glanced up in mild surprise and annoyance to look at Jo. She smiled weakly as she dropped the gun and shrugged.

It seemed worth a try at the time

He jerked his hand back, releasing Leona's arm and drawing forth the sand clogging her throat. She coughed weakly, her mind dazed and confused as she tried to push herself to her feet. The fomor advanced on Jo. You cost me far too much you stinking bird. One of his hands shifted, thickening and flattening out into a rocklike hammer. I am going to crush that stupid face of yours like a ripe melon and drink your blood from your throat!

Jo's hands darted into the pockets of her jacket, as though searching for something. I don't think that sounds too pleasant. Literally that is. Literally unpleasant.

But first I'm going to rip out your tongue so you will finally be silent! He reached for her.

Leona, now! While his back is turned!

Leona wondered what Jo expected of her. Sure it had been nice to get a reprieve, but she sure wasn't in any sort of fighting shape. Still, she also wasn't about to leave a packmate alone, even the bird. With a growl of effort she managed to stumble to her feet. Ahead of her, directly in front of Jo, the fomor turned around, ready for any attack. He seemed to look puzzled as he realized that she was so far away. 

Suddenly Jo's hand lashed out as she punched hard into his chest. As was usual his soft sandy skin accepted the blow, then locked about the wrist, trapping Jo's hand inside his chest. The rock-like flesh biting deeply into her pale skin. He turned back towards her, a wicked leer on his face.

Stupid bird.

Stupid fomor.

Jo lifted her other arm and opened her hand. Dangling from one of her bony fingers was a metal ring with a piece of wire attached to it. Leona looked at it curiously, wondering what a metal ring with a small stiff wire was going to do to stop the formor.

BOOM!!!

Leona jerked back, closing her eyes as a blast of sand sprayed painfully across her. She turned back, shaking her head to cast aside the sand that was clinging in her fur. The fomor was goneblasted apart by the live grenade Jo had punched into his chest. Leona walked up to the small dark shape that lay pressed against a wall nearby. Coated in a thin sprinkling of sand Jo gripped her right arm tightly just below the wrist. Above that was only a bloody stump, blood leaking out and dribbling thickly across the floor.

Next time, hissed Jo between gritted teeth, I'm going to just leave the fighting to the Garou.

It will heal, grunted Leona. Jo glanced up at her and nodded down the tunnel.

The others will need you, go on. I'll catch up after this heals. Leona nodded, backing off and turning to rush down the tunnels. Before she did she glanced back over her shoulder at Jo.

Sorry I thought you traitor.

Then Leona turned and charged down the tunnel.

* * *

I've been waiting for this, Conner. It was this moment that I dreamed of all those countless moments in The Pit. Snowflake's eyes glimmered as she spoke, her voice tinged with tangible eagerness.

Snowflake, what happened to you? Conner watched her carefully, feeling the old fears come creeping back to him slowly. Here she was, his love, his packmate, his victim. He had slain her in a moment of madness, and she had come back for revenge. Did he have the right to deny her that?

The Pit isn't as terrible as you might think, love. It's far, far worse. Do you think that any consumed within it are granted the simple peace of death? Laughter bubbled out of her throat, her lips curling into a wide smile. She brushed her wild white hair away from her face, suddenly her eyes going dead serious, her face calm. You sent me to the worst hell that could ever be conceived of. Now it's payback time.

She grabbed at the tattered throat of her blue summer dress and tore it open. Shredding the material away from her perfect body. Her skin was so pale as to appear almost glowing green in the light of The Pit. Supple and smooth muscles formed elegant and deadly curves across her naked body. Her hands dropped to her sides, hanging open and relaxed as she stared at him. Conner noticed the curving scars that marred her otherwise flawless skin. Scars across her belly and ribs that his own blades had made. He felt the will to fight leave him, she smiled, sensing his weakness.

Come to me now, Conner. Surely you must have felt it when you agreed to return. Surely you must have known that The Pit calls out to its own. You were always meant to be here, Conner. This is your destiny. She walked closer, one of her hands slowly shifting into a clawed crinos hand. She lifted it slowly as she approached, watching him, eyeing his neck. It is fate, you cannot fight it. We were meant to triumph, The Master and I.

Her voice was so innocent and so sure. Conner knew he didn't have it in him to oppose her. She was right about everything. Perhaps this was his fate. Perhaps he had acted dead all these years because he secretly knew he was supposed to have died here. Died here with her. Butsomehow it didn't seem right; didn't seem as though it should end like this, with the Wyrm and Tyranthraxus triumphant. He recalled another speech he had heard, that of a young woman, ignorant of how near she and this entire city were to damnation.

Evil triumphs when good men do nothing.'

Conner's eyes lifted. He looked into Snowflake's eyes.

echoed Snowflake curiously. No, what?

No, I will not do nothing. He lifted his arms. He grabbed at the straps of the silver claws on his wrists and pulled them off. The clattered to the stone walkway with a metallic ringing. No, Snowflake. This isn't my fate. I command my own destiny. He reached up and grabbed at the strip of white fur holding back his hair and pulled it loose. His wild rust red hair tumbled about his face, his cold as ice eyes staring out from amongst it. His jaw ticked upwards slightly. Too long have I blamed myself for actions that cannot be changed. The Snowflake I knew would not have allowed this ritual to occur.

The Snowflake you knew, hissed Snowflake, is dead.

Conner tied the strip of white fur to his wrist as he glared at her, the blood spattering his hands turning the white fur crimson and dark. Snowflake laughed. He raised his hands. She lifted her own. They looked deep into each other's eyes. Each shifted slightly, testing the other without even launching one attack. Then, at a silent signal both of them accepted, they started to dance.

Conner's first attack was a series of quick blows for her face. But Snowflake suddenly seemed to melt away, shifting down into lupus as she sprang up to bite at his outstretched leg. Conner reacted quickly by transforming into crinos, making it more difficult for her to get a solid bite with her smaller jaws. He then lunged for her again, his claws streaking out for her throat.  
Snowflake suddenly sprang backward. White fur sprouting across her body as she shifted to crinos as well, using her longer reach to slash at him even as she retreated. But Conner quickly blocked the blow, twisting her arm as he attempted to lock it into place with the Binding Wind maneuver. 

But she was too fast, jerking her arm back and dropping to the ground as she swept out at his legs with the Little Cyclone sweep. Conner sprang upwards, narrowly avoiding her leg. She quickly sprang after him, and somehow transformed the Little Cyclone's power into a Tornado Kick as she rose into the air after him. Conner felt her leg connect with his chest and he was thrown back to the ground.

He quickly flipped back to his feet, landing at the ready even as she rushed in for him. Their motions became a blur of move and counter move. Time seemed to blur as Conner forgot where he ended and Snowflake began. Each of them had trained with each other for a lifetime, there were no tricks the one knew that the other hadn't learned to avoid. They flowed together, moving as one being, their bodies shifting and twisting as they battled for an advantage. 

And still they mixed together, like two droplets of water. Two droplets pushing and brushing against each other, and only one would remain when it was over.

* * *

Dominic sprang down from one walkway to a lower one. He landed roughly, pushing himself back to his feet as he gripped his klaive tightly. His dark eyes scanned over the stone pathways. It appeared as though the Spirals had fled, leaving the temple undefended except byby the Dancer who seemed to appear as Snowflake. But the ronin, the urrah, was locked in battle with her. Some banes still swirled about The Maw, but they were being held at bay by Syntax's own spirit magic. Thus the way to The Maw was left clear. Dominic snarled as he sprang forward, dashing along the walkway as he charged for The Maw. Bonespur glittered in his hand as he roared in challenge.

Fer-guath watched in tired worry, too exhausted and injured to do anything. The Mage continued his mad chants over the Black Crystal, too engrossed in his magic to notice. But the last figure spun towards the charging philodox. Dominic snarled at the corpse that had once belonged to his packmate Quentin. Its dead eye sockets stared at him as its mouth twisted into a grin.

My, my. The dread Dominic has come to playbut too late! Quentin waved his arm in an arc. Suddenly a wall of green flames roared into place before The Maw. Dominic slid to a halt and backpedaled from the intense heat of the unnatural wall of fire. From beyond it he heard the mad laughter of Quentin. It is far too late, Dominic! My full power shall return to me in but moments!

Not if I can stop it! Dominic looked up in shock as he saw two shapes come rushing out of the rubble of the shattered temple. Charlie sprang over the altar and landed in front on the chanting sorcerer. The young pup's face twisted into a snarl of outrage. There shall be no rebirth of Tyranthraxus. Not tonight, not ever!

With a wild roar Charlie's arm swept forward. The Mage squealed in horror as his chest was rent apart. Blood sprayed from his mouth, chest, and back as Charlie drove his arm clean through the black robed sorcerer's body. His dead hands dropped to his sides, his staff and the Black Crystal clattering to the ground.

Statement: As Syntax has instructed me I shall now endeavor to bring an immediate end to the possibility of the ritual by destroying the focus point of the gathering energies. The pulsing form of Blue Storm descended over the staff. Waves of blue energy streamed out of the Net Spider as it altered the very nature of the staff until it became just another ridge upon the stone floor. Observation: Through usage of pattern alteration I have clearly removed the staff as a passable item in this paradigm. Conclusion: Eighty percent probability that Syntax shall be pleased.

Dominic spared a glance over his shoulder back at Syntax. She was slumped over onto her knees, exhausted by her efforts. Yet a small smirk of satisfaction spread across her face. Dominic grinned as well, he had been wrong to think that she hadn't been trying to help. She had fought off Fer-guath's magic's and arranged for a sneak attack from the rear at the same time. It was a maneuver worthy of a Shadow Lord.

The bellow nearly deafened Dominic with its force. Red and green flames crackled around Quentin as he watched the dead body of The Mage slump to the ground. No, I will not allow this to happen! It shall not happen!

Charlie, get out of there! Dominic snapped out the order as he saw the angered creature turning towards the pup and the Weaver spirit. Blue Storm promptly shot upward, whizzing overhead and hiding amongst the stalactites. 

There will be no escape!!! Quentin raised his arms and the wall of fire arced along the outer edges of the temple, encircling it totally and trapping Charlie within.

Charlie! I gave you an order!

I'd be happy to follow it if I could, snapped Charlie as he dove for cover. The place where he had been standing suddenly being engulfed in crackling flames.

Charge this way! Charlie looked up, his eyes meeting disbelievingly with Dominic's through the wall of green flames. Quentin turned towards Charlie, hissing in glee as he raised one flaming hand. Charlie shouted wildly as he turned and charged directly towards Dominic. Knowing there was no time to waste, Dominic dropped Bonespur and clapped his hands together, even as Charlie reached the flames. Dominic summoned the power taught to him by the Stormcrows, the deafening Clap of Thunder.

The shockwave of sound beat against the flames, causing them to waver and half gust out from the force of the air bursting against them. Charlie whooped in victory as he sailed through the tiny and brief opening and crashed to the ground next to Dominic, his fur smoking and singed.

Holy crap, gasped Charlie as he pulled himself to his feet, now that was intense!

Don't pat yourself on the back too much, snarled Dominic as he grabbed his klaive and stared warily at the flame wreathed temple. You may have struck a vital blow, but we still have a few problems to deal with. You are planning to help, right?

Oh, right, Charlie dropped in beside Dominic, looking over the flaming wall, then glancing back to where Conner still battled Snowflake, and further back at where Syntax slumped weakly on her hands and knees. Um, who do I help?

Go get the urrah, growled Dominic as he eyed the shifting shapes beyond the screen of fire. We'll probably need all the help we can get to deal with this

* * *

What sort of cowards are you weak, sniveling worms? Endelon heard the ragged and rough voice as he slipped through the lower tunnels. He had shattered a few bones upon hitting a walkway below the one he and the ronin had battled upon, and was now circling back around to the upper paths, ready to rejoin the fray. But now he turned and quickly followed the voice. You shall go back there now and finish them off! I shall watch from here and judge your actions!

Endelon came upon the cavern. It was a small nook that had an opening that overlooked The Pit. Kendar stood there, one of his hands clutching at his throat as blood seeped between his fingers. Before him stood the ragged remains of the tribe. Many of them bearing their own wounds from the battle, others simply looking broken, having lost the will to fight. Endelon saw their shifting and uneasy eyes, he knew Kendar wasn't doing a good job of rallying the troops. He learned why when Gorefist stepped forward. Her good eye gleamed while the dead one shone dully, her voice was an angry snarl.

When the war leader flees, then the packs withdraw. Such is the way of things. There is no shame. Kendar glared at her, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. Gorefist sneered back, unwilling to back down. The rest of the packs watched the two, unsure who to support.

Endelon's quiet hiss cut through the clamoring grandstanding. He strode forward, his klaives sparking and flashing in his hands, his eyes cold and deadly. He looked at their stupid faces and puffed out chests. By the All Mighty Wyrm did he despise them, they were simply so much wasted material. They'd be doing better if they had stayed in some dark crevices rutting and giving birth till the end of time. Flee or return to battle, he spat, but do not waste time with this foolish squabble.

They parted before him like leaves before a storm. He stopped next to Kendar as he looked through the crevice, his cold blue eyes scanning down upon the walkways of The Pit. He saw the ritual chamber wreathed in flames. He saw that Dominic still stood. Then he saw Snowflake, battling alone against the ronin. His eyes narrowed as he turned towards Kendar.

You left her to fight alone, Endelon's voice was a soft whisper, his eyes calm and detached.

grunted Kendar with a shrug. Dominic proved more challenging then I had anticipated. He spared a glance over his shoulder to make sure the others were too far back to hear him. My friend, he confided, I think we may have lost the day. Let us withdraw.

Not while she fights still. Endelon turned to rush to her aid, but was stopped by Kendar's mocking, gurgling laugh.

What's this? She's just another she-bitch to fuck or fight! Don't tell me you actually chose to develop feelings for her! Kendar shook with laughter as he glanced back out of the cave opening. Besides, the bitch was promised to me. Let her stay there and fight till she dies for all I care. We'll get you something better and younger. She's as good as dead down there anyway.

We all die, hissed Endelon softly, even friends.

Eh? What are you talkin-urk! Kendar jerked in surprise as the blade cut cleanly into his back and deep into his heart. He looked over at Endelon's face, the cold emotionless eyes watching him with calm detachment. Endelon twisted the blade, blood erupted from the wound.

Goodbye, my friend.

Lord Kendar! The other Spirals watched as Kendar, the Head Collector, collapsed like a mighty mountain. Falling not all at once, but in slow, lumbering, majestic steps. Collapsing first to his knees, then his side, and then slumping to the ground and rolling down the incline of the tunnel towards them. They watched as the mighty hero who had always seemed so invincible to them, so beyond their reach, come to a dead stop amongst them; broken and ruined. Red eyes flared with rage as they looked up at the slim and silent figure with cold dead eyes that watched them, a flaming green klaive gripped in his bloody hand.

Fight or flee, he told them softly, it matters not.

So saying he turned and sprang through the opening, his leap sending him sailing through the air to land lightly on one of the upper walkways. He pulled out his second klaive and grinned coldly as it burst into flames. This battle was not over yet. He rushed to Snowflake's aid.

* * *

gasped Fer-guath as he struggled up alongside The Master. The ritual, he glanced down at the dead form of The Mage, it cannot be completed. He shifted weakly, his blood still leaking from the painful wound in his back, his energies spent from his battle with Syntax. Master, we should leave this place now, regroup, try again later.

The dead sightless eyes turned towards him, The Master's face a wicked grin. No, my dear friend. There is no need to worry. There is another way to complete the ritual. A two step process. First I join with her, and then use the energies within the Black Crystal to finalize the transfer.

Fer-guath blinked in surprise. Why didn't we try this sooner?

whispered a voice behind him, of the cost of the needed sacrifice.

What sacrifice?

A powerful theurge of the Wyrm. Clawed hands closed about Fer-guath's throat. He was too weak to fight them off. He closed his eye and gave himself to the glory of the Wyrm.

* * *

His breath came in gasping gulps. So did hers. The two sounds mixed together as they stared at each other. They stood less then twenty paces apart, each coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Each dripping small rivulets of blood from half a dozen minor wounds. They had stopped the battle only due to each of them being nearly exhausted to death by the conflict. She lifted one of her hands, her small tongue arching out to lap lightly at the bloodstains upon her fingertips.

You cannot be Snowflake, said Conner between deep breaths. I refuse to accept it.

What do I care what you accept? She grinned. I know who I am, and who I've always been.

snarled Conner, is not what Snowflake always was.

Laughter bubbled up from between her bright blood red lips. Isn't it though? Didn't you ever wonder? Back then, during that battle eight years ago. Didn't you ever wonder why I attacked you?

Conner scowled, she was confused in the heat of battle. Perhaps The Mage used his magic to confuse her. Perhaps the Rage

Confused? Rage? Hahahaha! Her face suddenly twisted up into an ugly leer, her eyes staring at him darkly from under the damp strands of her wild white hair. I had planned to betray you and the pack all along! I had already made a pact with Tyranthraxus, even then.

You lie!

Do I?

This ends now! 

With a roar Conner charged forward, his long red hair spraying out around his face as he growled. Snowflake laughed eagerly as she rushed forward as well. Her laughter mixing with his snarl of outrage. Conner couldn't help but remember how much he had thought of them as drops of water when they had been together. He remembered countless nights staring at his ceiling as he had thought of how he had let her die eight years ago.

A drop of water slowly condensed along the rusting metal grill. Small droplets of moisture formed, each bulging downward with the weight of the water that shaped them. They ran slowly together, traveling along pathways that had been formed from those who had gone before them. Softly and slowly they came together. Each dew drop quivering in fear and anticipation of what was to come next. 

They touched. 

Conner sprang into the air, Snowflake did the same. They struck at each other in a blinding blur of moves. Claws flashed! A throat was torn! Then they each landed lightly on their feet. Snowflake grinned wickedly, her eyes aflame. Conner's eyes were cold and calm, his face grim. Each turned around slowly, their eyes meeting. Snowflake suddenly gasped as a spray of blood erupted from her throat. She reached up, her pale white hand entering the mist of blood and becoming soaking red. She looked up at Conner in shock. He watched her quietly. 

her voice was a soft whisper as she stumbled, her eyes wide and fearful. Blood leaked down her side, turning her pale skin to crimson. How could

Conner looked into her eyes and saw not the madness of a monster, but the genuine pain of betrayal. He saw Snowflake in those eyes, his Snowflake. Then she took a faltering step backwards, her foot landing unevenly on the edge of the walkway. She tottered, her eyes widening in fear as she stumbled off the edge. 

He urged his tired and aching muscles to move, move faster then he had ever thought possible. All he could see was her fall eight years ago. All he could think of was how he had lay there and watched her plummet into that green emptiness. His arm stretched out, his muscles burned with effort as he pushed them to the limit. He sprawled onto the walkway, his hand grasping out into the air desperately.

He grabbed her wrist.

Snowflake gasped in surprise as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and fearful as she looked down again at The Pit below her. Conner's teeth gritted together as he held her steady. Blood still leaked out of her neck, and her face was pale, too pale. She looked up at him again, weakly.

It's okay, I've got you, Snowflake. I've got you. His free hand scrabbled on the walkway for a solid grip, he tried to dig his toes into stone for support. Can you pull yourself up?

Oh, Conner, my love, she whispered now, her gaze seeming unfocused. Conner knew she must be delusional from the loss of blood. She looked up at him. I always loved you, I'm sorry. Did you know how you stole my heart?

he gasped, pull yourself up, it'll be okay. Her eyes suddenly lifted, dark and dangerous.

Here, let me steal yours!!!

Her free hand lashed up, claws sharp and deadly. It plunged deeply into Conner's chest, ripping apart muscles and wedging into his ribcage. He howled in pain as he felt her claws twitch, her hand digging deeper, reaching for his heart. He looked down at her and snarled, realizing this had been one last trick of the Corrupter. She gripped at his ribcage as she tried to pull herself up, her mouth sprouting fangs as she lunged to bite at his throat.

The drops of water met. Each separate form seeped together, combining into one single whole, one single being. Completed, perfect, beautiful. The drop glistened and shone in the moonlight that streamed in the window. The drop trembled, perfection was not meant to last. It felt the push of inevitability. It fell, fell down and away soundlessly. 

Come, lover, she snarled as she pulled herself closer, there's still time for one last embrace! Join me!!!

Conner reacted without thinking. His hand holding her shifted into claws of his own. The talons ripping and shredding through the flesh of her wrist as he released her. He then slashed upwards, ripping open her throat and gouging apart the muscles of her other arm.

Snowflake gasped in surprise as she fell back, blood spraying from her throat and arms. She swirled through the air, like a snowflake. Tumbling down towards The Pit, just a small frozen piece of water. A drop, it fell, fell down and away soundlessly.

All but the little bit that still clung on. Refusing to be dragged down into darkness with the rest.

A pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders and pulled him back onto the walkway. The worried face of Charlie shoved itself close to his. Conner, are you okay? Say something!

Gaia preserve, he muttered.

Holy Mother, Charlie winced as he looked down at the massive twisted wound in Conner's chest. Blood pumped from the wound, staining the clump of hair on his chest and dribbling down his belly. Charlie winced. Are you going to be okay?

Ronin! You die now!

They both looked up at the dark figure that rushed for them, tattered black bandages trailing behind it as flaming klaives hissed in deadly arcs. Endelon rushed forward, his cold blue eyes hard and deadly.

Charlie growled as he rose, facing the killer of his packmate. He remembered how Endelon had so casually slain Sees-Like-An-Eagle back at the lake. He remembered the harsh smile of victory as flaming blades had ripped the life from the young Garou. Charlie roared as he charged forward, seeking blood. His mouth opened wide, fangs flashing as he lunged forward in a mad burst of speed.

Even as Charlie's muzzle descended for Endelon's throat, Endelon's klaive snapped up. There was a searing moment of pain as Endelon drove it through Charlie's cheek, Charlie's mouth clamped down instinctively in pain. His teeth grinding on the flaming metal, the green fires burning the insides of his mouth as his charge was brought to a sudden, pained, halt. With a sneer Endelon swept his second blade up and across, ripping it through Charlie's gut. With a pained cry Charlie fell back.

I didn't come to toy with pups, I came to slay a man, snarled Endelon as he loomed over Charlie.

Then come slay him, growled Conner as he walked slowly forward. Once more he gripped his blades, and was strapping them to his wrists. Blood still leaked thickly down his bare chest, staining his tattered pants a deep crimson. His eyes met Endelon's as he grinned. If you can.

We all die, hissed Endelon as he raised his blades and charged. His feet moved quickly as he almost seemed to glide down the path towards the ronin. And now this ends!

IT BEGINS!

The shockwave rolled out and away from The Maw with deafening force. Conner and Endelon sprawled to the ground. There came a roar as four of the caves that ringed the upper levels of The Pit suddenly sprayed forth a thick green liquid. It poured down in huge funneling sprays, plunging down into the pool of green ooze far below. Conner looked up in horror as he saw the flames surrounding The Maw blast out in a cloud of fire. Dominic staggered under the blast, the flames licking around him. Black energies swirled around the cavern, the entire chamber seemed to shake. Stalactites broke loose and plunged down into The Pit. Huge waves of the vile green liquid sloshed and splashed about the lower levels.

Conner rose unsteadily to his feet, next to him Endelon also sprang to his. Even as they glared at each other they both heard a huge crack above them. Their heads snapped up and eyes widened in shock as they saw a massive chunk of the ceiling plunging towards them They spared another glance at each other, and then both turned and ran, both dashing side by side down the stone walkway. Behind them the rock struck with massive force, shattering the stone bridge. The ground gave way beneath them as a huge section of the walkway splintered into rubble. Both Conner and Endelon sprang forward, their hands reaching out for the section of the walkway that was still intact.

Conner missed.

As he started to fall a brown furred arm shot forward and clasped tightly onto him. Charlie grunted in pain as he stopped Conner's fall. 

Nearby Endelon's black claws closed on nothing but empty airand there was no friend of his to reach out and help him. He plunged silently downward, disappearing amongst the rubble as more rocks collapsed and tumbled atop him. Burying him beneath the rocky debris alone and forgotten.

Charlie growled as he pulled Conner up onto the walkway. The two stood together, their fur being tossed in the strange hellish winds that now swirled around the chamber. Conner saw Quentin, flames crackling around his eye sockets as he laughed. Suddenly his form went stiff, one last chuckle escaped his lips, and then he collapsed to the ground. The body finally and truly dead.

The scream was sudden and unimaginable in its agony. Conner and Charlie turned to look. Syntax lay upon the ground, writhing in pain. Her normally calm features twisted into a mask of agony. Her voice going raw from the one solid unending scream that was being ripped from her.

And then it stopped.

She sat up slowly. One delicate hand reaching up and brushing tangled hair away from her sweaty face. Her tongue came out and licked lightly across her parched lips. She looked up, and Conner met her gaze. Her eyes were dark. Like the deepest of pits.

He shook his head slowly, knowing what those eyes meant.

hissed Syntax as she rose to her feet, behind her the gushing geysers of green ooze poured out thickly, filling The Pit and returning it to full power for its returned master. Oh yesssss! She ran her hands across her face and down the sides of her body. This is better then I had thought. Do you, any of you, know how good it is to be alive? It's glorious!!!

With a peal of laughter green energies flashed around her. Syntax lifted into the air, her dark eyes blazing and seeming to soak in all light that came near them. She floated forward lightly, still laughing, as she approached The Maw.

This is glorious! The power, you fools can hardly even begin to grasp. She laughed again as she landed in front of The Maw. Her bare feet made only a whisper of sound as she started up the steps. Her face reflected back to her from the gleaming obsidian. It's just so wonderful.

We've got to stop this, gasped Charlie as he dashed forward. Conner ran at his side as they approached The Maw. Syntax seemed oblivious to them, simply walking up the steps and looking about at the shattered temple in glee. How can we help her? Charlie glanced over at Conner. We have to get him out of her.

I'm not sure we can, Conner admitted darkly.

There is one way. They both looked over in surprise at the burnt figure that rose up from the ashes, his klaive gleaming brightly in his hand. Dominic snarled as he turned to look up at Syntax's back. We do it the same way you did before, he raised Bonespur meaningfully. We end this.

Conner reached out and caught Dominic's shoulder. I tried it before and I failed. I was cast out of the tribes by you for committing an injustice, and never even stopped him! It is not the answer.

Dominic's eyes flared angrily as he turned to glare at Conner. But then his shoulders slumped slightly and his eyes went dark. He nodded. Yes, you are right. He twisted his klaive, the rune of duty flickering across his face. But what do we do then?

Statement: I wish to help Syntax. The glowing blue spider sailed down and hovered nearby. They all glanced at it in surprise. Observation: While hiding I witnessed the enacting of this modified ritual. The being known as Tyranthraxus made it clear it was a partial joining and it would need the Black Crystal to finish the joining. Conclusion: We should-

Get that damn Crystal, bellowed Dominic as he turned and sprang up the steps three at a time.

-retrieve the Crystal first, finished Blue Storm as it watched the three Garou rush up the steps towards Syntax. She glanced over her shoulder in amusement as she watched them come, thin lips parting in a wicked smile as her dark eyes seemed to swallow the light.

My, my, eager to die, are we?

You help me distract her, growled Dominic to Conner. Charlie, get the Crystal and get out of there. Conner and Charlie nodded in agreement to the plan as they sprinted up the steps. Syntax laughed as she watched them come. Green waves of fire roiled around her fingers and her hair danced on an invisible breeze. Dominic and Conner sprang forward as Charlie rushed to the side.

sneered Syntax, playing at being heroes. As Dominic descended towards her she idly waved her arm in his direction. A wave of green fire blazed out in an arc that slammed into his chest. The Shadow Lord snarled in pain as he was hurled backwards like a child's plaything. Conner came in fast and low, lunging forward to grab onto her. Her eyes flashed as she spun towards him, her hand clamping down on his throat with unbelievable speed and power. Tell me, Conner, she sneered as his charge came to a choking halt. Didn't it break your heart to cast Snowflake down into The Pit for a second time? Shame, shame. You should go join her.

With an effortless shrug of her arm she sent him sailing backwards through the air, tumbling end over end as he sailed towards the edge of The Maw. Conner twisted about, looking for some way to escape his fate, but spotted nothing. Then a large black shape charged in from the side. Dominic's claws bit sharply into Conner's back as he grabbed onto him. The two tumbled and rolled roughly across the ground, skidding to a stop mere inches away from the edge.

gasped Conner as he shakily rose to his feet. Dominic simply growled slightly, his dark eyes still fixed on Syntax. She had spun around and spotted Charlie reaching down for the Black Crystal. With a snarl she shot forward in a blur of flame and shadow. Her hand clamped down on his wrist even as he grabbed the Crystal. Green fire hissed about her fingers, smoke issued out from under her hand, Charlie screamed.

Hands off, dog! This is mine! With a contemptuous twist of her arm she flung him back. Charlie slammed up hard against a crumbling pillar, splintering it apart with the impact of his collision. She snarled in glee as she reached down and grabbed the Crystal. Look now, Garou. Look now and witness the moment when you allowed this city to fall to me! She raised the Black Crystal overhead, gripping it excitedly in one hand.

Syntax, don't do it! Dominic suddenly stumbled forward, smoke still rising from his horrible burns. Feeling little better, Conner stood up and limped after him. Syntax, I know you're still in there. Tyranthraxus doesn't have full control just yet. Fight him, damnit, fight him and give us a chance! All we need to do is get that Crystal away from you.

Oh! Oh, that's good! Syntax tilted her head back and laughed. What's next? Are you going to tell me that you know that deep inside Syntax is hearing this and has the strength to do something? Wild laughter erupted from her, she shook her head and trembled with laughter. Or maybe as long as I believe in Gaia there's still a chance!

Actually, the plan was simpler then that, grunted Dominic with a small smirk. Suddenly Conner saw what Dominic must have. The small tawny wolf sprang forth from the shadows at the rear of The Maw. Leaping lightly through the air its jaws closing down on the Black Crystal and snatching it from Syntax's surprised grasp. Her dark eyes snapped open, her face contorting in rage.

You wretch!!! Green flames spewed out around her as she turned towards Leona. Now you die!!!

Conner, with me! Dominic sprang forward in a wild rush. Conner almost didn't respond, so shocked was he to hear his true name pass Dominic's lips. But then he too leapt forward. Even as Syntax turned towards Leona, Dominic was beside her, his large arms wrapping tightly about her chest as he lifted her in a bear hug. Conner was right beside him, grabbing onto her hands and twisting them up and away.

Leona, Charlie! His voice sounded ragged and desperate, even to himself. He felt his muscles strain as he tried to hold her arms in place, but she was stronger then he could have imagined. The fires racing about her fingers burned his hands, but he wouldn't let go. Deal with the Crystal!

* * *

Charlie pulled himself up weakly as Leona rushed up to him, the Crystal in her mouth and a worried and confused look in her eyes. Charlie looked down at her and blinked, then back up at the three struggling figures.

How do I deal with it!?!

Damnit, boy, be a man, snarled Dominic as Syntax's thrashings increased. He and Conner tumbled to the ground. Her fingers clawed at them, fire burning at flesh, her mad howls shaking them to the bone. Dominic held her tightly even as Conner was being kicked off, he snarled in her ear. I'm not letting you go Syntax, I gave you my word I'd get you out of here. I'm not letting you go.

I'll kill you all, she hissed. Her arm jerked free, fire lanced around it as she grabbed at Conner's face and tried to rise.

I don't know what to do!

Just do something with the damned thing, Conner shouted.

Charlie looked down and grabbed the Crystal from Leona's mouth. He looked at it for a half moment. Suddenly it seemed as though he held the entire universe in his hand. Half whispered words seemed to promise him power and glory. Promised him a spot of glory that would surpass even Dominic and his uncle Marn. Promised him the entire world, if he'd just accept Tyranthraxus within himself. Accept the Wyrm. It would be so easy, the Crystal promised him; everything would be okay.

Charlie felt his hand tremble slightly as he considered the offer. Then it occurred to him that he didn't really want fame, or power, or glory. He wanted to go home. It wasn't perhaps the bravest thought ever, nor the greatest. But it was honest. He wasn't a great and brave man, he just wanted this madness over so he could be safe at home with his friends. He remembered his own words; A hero, a true hero, is someone who does what he doesn't want to do if it means doing the right thing. He didn't want to be here, but it was the right thing to do. And the right thing didn't involve joining the Wyrm.

Right, do something, he snarled, I'll do something with it! He turned, looking out across the vast green morass and crumbled madness of The Pit. The geysers of superheated chemicals from the vats at Allied Chemicals had transformed the glowing green waters into a boiling quagmire. He glared at the green depths and raised the Crystal. Go back where you came from, and leave us the hell alone!

He threw the Crystal.

Syntax arose with a jerk, finally tossing aside the burnt and battered forms of Dominic and Conner. You fool! She turned towards Charlie, her face a mask of twisted rage. She raised her hands, green fire crackled around them.

Then the Crystal hit the liquid of The Pit. Syntax jerked as though in pain. Green fire and waves of black shadow seemed to swirl about her in a sudden flurry. Then they were gone, and she collapsed weakly to the ground. Suddenly all was silence save for the gasping breaths of the four exhausted Garou. Dominic stood up slowly, blinking in surprise. Nearby Conner sat up weakly, holding his heavily burnt arm tenderly. Charlie looked back at them and grinned.

It's over.

The voice was a ragged whisper. Syntax's hands reached out and gripped onto a nearby pile of rubble. Hand over hand she pulled herself up. Her gray eyes glanced at them, looking haunted and fearful. It's just become worse.

breathed Charlie nervously. 

You hurled the seat of Tyranthraxus' power into the heart of a caern which had been amplified with so much spiritual energy that it is overflowing with power. A caern of corruption and mutation, which alters all who come in contact with it into horrid beasts even when they are mere humans and it is low on energy. She shook her head slowly. You just created a true nightmare.

The others all glanced at Charlie.

I didn't know!

On the positive side, hissed Syntax, its unstable nature denotes an unmistakable likelihood that whatever it creates from all this power will end up destroying itself within a short time. The negative side is that it will have more then ample time to obliterate us and, in all probability, part of Detroit as well.

Is it just me, or did I pick a bad time to show up? Charlie glanced up as Jo came jogging up towards them. He dimly noted that the Corax was the only one of them not seeming to be coated in blood and sporting half a dozen wounds. She paused and shrugged. You all seem depressed. What's going on?

A low rumble filled the chamber. All of them glanced over the edge. The green slime of The Pit was slowly roiling and bubbling. At the center of the pool they could see something beginning to form. Charlie felt his heart go still as he caught brief glimpses of the thing. It was unspeakable, and even from high above it he could feel the fearsome emanations of terror it seemed to exude. Its eyes flared with the wild glow of madness.

We need a plan, snarled Dominic. Conner, any ideas?

No, how about you?

Dominic glanced over at Syntax, she shook her head. Charlie shifted uneasily as he watched the thing below them seem to grow larger, it was huge! Leona whined and tucked her tail between her legs.

I've got an idea, offered Jo suddenly. They all glanced down at her in surprise. She grinned and shrugged again. Well, as long as we have all this excess power built up in the caern, why not use it to our own ends? We could open a path up into some realm of the Umbra, like the Wyrm's lavatory or something, and then just dump Mr. Ugly-Uber-Monster down there through it. That way when he self destructs it's on some nasty place that we don't care about.

grunted Dominic, that is quite possibly the best idea I think you have ever had.

I think.

Syntax, can it be done? Dominic crouched in front of her and shook her shoulder. Her exhausted and sunken eyes glanced at him and then out at The Pit. Can it be done? Can you do it?

think so. Dominic grabbed her under her arm and helped her to her feet. She nodded weakly as she looked down at The Pit. Yes, the possession left me with some knowledge There isn't much timeI will need all of your help. Join hands with me. Jo rushed up and grabbed her left hand, Dominic gripped the right. Conner and Leona linked hands with Jo, and Charlie took hold of Dominic's right hand. Blue Storm hovered overhead. I am going to have towell, I will have tohalf ass this. Charlie quirked an eyebrow at Syntax's choice of words, not sure they boded well. I am going to summon all the spirits in the chamber into our world, and then banish them. The spiritual back draft should grab Tyranthraxus as well.

echoed Charlie nervously.

We begin, stated Syntax softly. Give your energies to me, all the spiritual power you have within you. Charlie suddenly felt as though something was draining away from him, he knew it was the inner spiritual energy which the Garou tapped for their magic and rituals. He willingly gave all he could.

A silvery glow surrounded the small group; the gleaming misty light drawing in towards Syntax. Suddenly the room started to darken. Strange misshapen figures seemed to suddenly form. Dark winged creatures flapping about them. Clawed beasts pulling themselves to their feet. Charlie gasped at the sheer number of the things. The unholy host hissed and snarled in glee. Many of them turned and rushed down the various tunnels, others turned hungry eyes towards the Garou. Amidst it all there was a deep rumble from The Pit as a great beast started to rise, preparing to rain destruction down on all that lay in its path. Tyranthraxus had finally risen!

Syntax's eyes suddenly flared open, glowing with a bright silver light, gleaming like the moon. Charlie felt his chest twist in pain as his spiritual energy, his gnosis, was torn from him at a prodigious rate. Syntax howled loudly, as waves of silver light washed out from her and poured over the dark host before them. The dark spirits wailed in anger as the light seemed to tear at them, shredding apart their bodies and casting them about the chamber.

The wisps of shadow seemed to collect into a swirling maelstrom. The whirlwind pulled at everything. Charlie felt his blood soaked brown fur flutter in the stiff breeze. Beside him Dominic stood calm and resolute, his dark eyes locked on the horror of Tyranthraxus. The ronin's long red hair swirled about his calm, meditative face. Leona snarled angrily. Jo quietly mouthed oh shit' over and over again.

Then the maelstrom took full effect. The very ooze of The Pit seethed about as it started to be pulled along. The current was strengthened by the wild black tatters of the wailing dark spirits. The green slime frothed and twisted about, slowly forming into a great whirlpool, the center of it a deep and bottomless darkness. The angry spirits were pulled and sucked down it in mad confusion. Only the great beast, Tyranthraxus stood firm. The massive jaws of the creature opened as it bellowed an angry challenge. Its great tentacles wrapping about outcrops of stone as it held itself in place.

I have no more! Leona wailed in pain as she collapsed, her grip leaving Conner's. Charlie too felt the burning pain as the ritual seemed to draw the last of his spiritual reserves from him. A moment later a blinding agony filled his chest, as the ritual tried to pull energy from where there was none.

Charlie jerked his hand away from Dominic, weakly stumbling to the ground. He looked up at the others, their faces were grim and drawn, each now having to offer more energy for the loss of the others. Conner's eyes suddenly snapped open, sweat breaking out across his face. Next to him Jo looked up worriedly.

Stand firm, Conner, snarled Dominic, this is almost over. Below them Tyranthraxus bellowed again, as though to give lie to their hope. It reached forth, claws digging into stone as it tried to drag itself forward, away from the sucking portal. snarled Dominic angrily.

That is all, gasped Conner as he fell back from Jo, leaving only three to keep the portal open. He slumped weakly, drained and exhausted. I'm sorry, I failed again.

Be quiet you fool, hissed Dominic, you never failed. It was your pack that failed you. We judged without looking for the truth. You were right, can't you see that? You were right the whole damn time, and I was wrong! Now get up and help us end this!

Conner glanced up at Dominic, and Charlie saw his lips quirk slightly upwards in what was perhaps the first genuine smile he had seen on Conner's face. Years seemed to drop away from him, exhaustion faded. He stood up again and gripped Jo's hand tightly.

It is not working, gasped Syntax as she eyed Tyranthraxus. He is too strong to be pulled through. At best we can weaken him enough that he will only have time to slay us before he too is consumed. There could be worse endings.

There could be better ones too, grumbled Jo through gritted teeth. Charlie saw Dominic glance towards Jo and nod slightly, then his gaze returned to Tyranthraxus. The maddened beast howled. Dominic's eyes narrowed, his face grew intense.

I'm not sure how much more I have, wheezed Conner weakly. Blood leaked from his many wounds as he sank to his knees. Then he collapsed to the ground. Leona reached over and tried to help him. Charlie felt the grim grip of inevitability. They were going to all die here.

Josephine, are you strong enough, asked Dominic quietly.

Oh, sure, doing juuuust great.

Dominic released Syntax's hand. She and Jo both snarled in pain and extra effort. But Dominic didn't collapse from weakness. Charlie blinked in shock, had Dominic given up? The Shadow Lord drew out Bonespur. The rune of death gleamed brightly across his features. He held it out towards Charlie.

Take it.

Take it, it is yours now. Wield it with honor Charlie took the klaive numbly from Dominic's hand. The Shadow Lord nodded to him as he turned back towards The Pit.

gasped Jo, what are you doing?

He's too strong to be pulled in, said Dominic quietly. Somebody has to go push.

Charlie felt his heart go still. He gripped the heavy silver blade in his hand tightly. He saw a look of anguish pass over Jo's face. Tears welled up around her large dark eyes. Conner shook his own head and tried to rise.

I should go.

No, Conner, said Dominic gruffly as he easily pushed him back. It was my crime to take from you your name, I cost you eight years of your life. You have earned your name and more back, you won't throw it away so soon. It is my decision, and my will that I go.

Jo's voice was a strangled choking sob. Tears ran heavily down her rounded cheeks. She shook her head desperately from side to side, sniffling.

This is unnecessary, offered Syntax softly as she locked eyes with Dominic. Perhaps if we hold out just a bit longer, with your extra energies we could keep this up for-

Just long enough for him to kill us all. The price is one versus six, you should well understand that. He nodded at her. I am sorry again for your pack, perhaps by saving you I can, at the least, know that I am more then just a mindless killer.

He looked them all n the eye, a small and feral smirk spreading across his face. It was an honor to be able to fight alongside you. Charlie knew these were the strongest words Dominic had to express himself. But then he turned to look at the sobbing shape of Jo. 

Jo was shaking. Dominic looked down at her and smiled softly.

Die in a warm bed, my aggravating wonderful little friend. 

He spun around. The green lights of the pit washed up over him as he looked down at the great beast below. The wind whipped at his scorched black fur. His claws flexed as he howled.

What is our duty? To serve Gaia's will. What is her will? That we fight and die. What is death?

Dominic sprang over the side.

It is our duty!!!

Charlie leaned forward, his eyes wide with shock. In his hand Bonespur seemed to hum angrily, as though sensing its master had gone to war without it. The runes of death and duty flashed across the surface, gleaming with a silvery light. The black shape of Dominic seemed so tiny as it slammed down atop the massive form of Tyranthraxus. With a wild howl Dominic's claws dug deeply into the flesh of the monster. Slicing apart the base of one of the tentacles that held it in place.

Angrily it let up its grip and lashed up at him with one of its claws. Dominic narrowly avoided the blow, and then sprang atop the hand and tore madly at the wrist, ripping at bone and biting through flesh. He then spun and attacked another tentacle. Tyranthraxus wailed in anger as it flailed at himand its grip was so loosened and itself so distracted that it started to slide towards the portal.

Syntax's voice was harsh. Give it everything you have! Jo sobbed in pain and loss as she watched Dominic battle, but she didn't let up. Charlie locked gazes with Leona, and both of them snarled and reached up, grabbing onto Jo and Syntax and adding what little energy they had left. Waves of silver light sprang from them and lashed down at the creature, pulling at it, dragging it into the maelstrom. Green slime spun about it as it was caught in the pull.

The great beast was dragged down into the darkness, its howls; mad wails of incoherent rage. Dominic slashed and fought at it, even as its tentacles wrapped about him, dragging him with it. Charlie cried out as he saw Dominic rip free. The Shadow Lord spun about, turning and leaping at the last moment, trying to escape now that he had ensured that Tyranthraxus was caught. Dominic dove for freedom.

But clawed tendrils closed in about him.

Dominic met Charlie's gaze as he was dragged back. But there was no fear or pain in Dominic's dark eyes. He turned and roared in challenge as he again tore at the tendrils. Amidst a wave of green slime the great Corrupter, Tyranthraxus, and Dominic Rends-the-Darkness' were both pulled deep into the black portal. There was a cry as Syntax ended the ritual, and they all collapsed to the ground. With a final shudder the gate closed.

Dominic was gone. 


	18. Epilogue: Remeberance

Epilogue: Remembrance  


Puck's eyes opened with a flutter. The wide, multicolored eyes glanced about in surprise as she sat up slowly. Above her stood Arienkel, the sidhe sage frowning slightly. Kneeling in front of him was Ayloshia, The Lady smiled softly, her golden eyes gleaming. Puck stammered in surprise.

I'm not dead?

Such would seem to be the fate that has befallen us, grumbled Arienkel. Ayloshia grinned slightly, her bright smile seeming to wash warmly across the room. She stood up, her long silver hair dancing lightly about her.

You were very lucky, my friend. If Lord Cruss hadn't brought you to me as quickly and carefully as he did I question whether anyone could have saved you.

Puck sat up, hissing slightly in pain as she felt the stiff soreness in her belly. She winced as she glanced down and saw the thick bandages that swathed her middle. Where is the old boy? What happened to the Spirals? Did the city blow up while I was out?

Outside, destroyed, no, replied Ayloshia with a light giggle. Rejoice my friend, the sun rose this morning and children awoke and smiled at the possibilities. The Dreamers were protected, and all is well in Detroit. Ayloshia reached down and helped Puck stand, the pooka wobbling slightly uncertainly on her feet. You and Juvariel are heroes now.

muttered Arienkel, there is even talk of a celebration ball in your honor.

Really? Cool! Puck couldn't help but giggle. Does this mean I get to sit at the head table and make a speech?

Table yes, speech no, replied Ayloshia as she helped Puck pull on a warm bathrobe. They stepped through the door of Ayloshia's bedchamber and out into the hall. Lord Cruss waited uneasily there. His once fine clothes rent and stained with patches of blood and grime. His worn and sunken face looked haunted and worried. He looked up sharply as Puck and Ayloshia stepped into the hall.

Greetings and stuff, JC!

Puck! You're okay! He beamed brightly, and then seemed to catch himself and took on a sterner look and tone. You, ahem, you gave us all some concern. Puck noted as his face flushed with relief and she grinned wider.

Awwww, JC, you were worried about me!

No, just caring for a fallen comrade, he stammered stiffly.

You were fretting over me!

No I wasn't.

You were a black ball of despair.

That's rather overstating it

It was like a Shakespearian tragedy!

Or comedy, murmured Ayloshia softly to Arienkel. She and her advisor watched as Cruss turned and walked off stiffly, hotly denying Puck's ever more outlandish claims. Her arms waved about wildly as she pantomimed how Cruss must have thrown himself about in his great anguish. Lord Cruss started to look ill. Ayloshia grinned slightly. You know, Arienkel. That could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Arienkel looked at her aghast and disbelievingly.

Ayloshia just smiled mischievously.

* * *

He lay on the floor of the cabin. His red hair spilled out around him. His hand rested on his chest, fingers lightly brushing over the scar that lay across his heart. Above him he watched as the morning dew dripped in through a small gap in the ceiling. It slowly ran down an old and twisted support beam. The golden wood worn down into a path from the many droplets that had gone before. The water collected at a certain point, where it lost the will to go on. Another drop would meet it. They would tremble in anticipation.

They would touch.

The droplet would glisten and gleam with its newfound joining, its mate, its pack. But then the force of the weight would prove too much. The effort of being a combined unit would twist and wrench it to the side. It would tremble in fear. Then it would plunge down over the edge, spinning and tumbling down into the darkness.

The droplet caught Conner on the cheek. Looking almost like a tear as it rolled off his face. Outside he could hear the activity of the caern. He and the others had returned to a hero's welcome. Even now the cries of joy and the sounds of the music filtered in to the cabin. From outside the door came Charlie's excited knock. He called in, shouted about how the ritual was about to start and Conner was needed.

Needed.

He looked down at his left hand, at the bottle it held. He looked at the amber liquid sloshing around inside. It seemed like forever since he had gotten a good drink. He lifted the bottle slowly, admiring the moisture on its sides, the fresh bubbles that frothed within it. It had been his only true friend and protector these eight years. Eight years of avoiding the nightmares. But he had gone back, had walked those tunnels again, and this time he had come back clean.

He rose lightly to his feet. He brushed the water from his face. He glanced up at the path of the droplets. One of his fingernails shifted into a curved claw. He reached up and lightly carved a new path for the water to follow. One that would carry it gently to the floor and to a crack that lead to the moist earth below. He watched the droplets flow down the new path, gingerly at first, but then with more surety. He glanced at the bottle and then set it down.

Dawn would come soon, and the time for nightmares was over.

* * *

Let it henceforth be known, throughout the tribes, that Leona' Throatripper is no longer a pup. No longer ranked a mere Cliath. She is to hereafter be known as Leona' Throatripper, rank Fostern Philodox of the Raging Falls Caern. Destroyer of the Traitor Within. Marn rested his hand on Leona's head as he spoke the words. The grizzled one-eyed Get of Fenris grinned at her, and then stepped past her.

Now let us look upon this pup, who is a pup no more. Christened in the final moments of Dominic Rends-the-Darkness', this boy has become a man. He now wields Bonespur, Dominic's own blade. He has slain many of the greatest enemies of our tribes. He is not to be awarded simply the next rank of honor, he is to be awarded two rank increases. Around Marn the assembled members of the tribes murmured in surprise at the weighty reward. Let it henceforth be known, throughout the tribes, that Charlie Blackmuzzle' Snyder is no more. Before you stands Charlie Blackmuzzle' Snyder, nephew of Marn The One-Eyed', Hero of the Pit, Adren Galliard of the Raging Falls Caern. Marn smiled warmly down at Charlie Arise now, both of you, and be welcomed by the packs.

Charlie and Leona both stood up, the last remains of their pack. They had grown more in two days then they had in the two years before. Charlie heard the proud and welcoming howls of his fellows, and felt himself too tired and exhausted to care. Was this how Dominic had felt whenever he and the others had kept thanking him for things he wasn't proud of? Charlie knew that Marn had been truly accurate about one thing. He was no longer a boy. He glanced at his uncle as he passed and paused before the last figure.

Kneeling before us is what was once a forgotten wolf. But he has earned the right to reclaim his name once more, and to earn a new title. He is Conner Degear, Elder Ahroun of the Raging Falls caern. Tell us, what name do you wish to be known by?

Charlie knew Conner had felt uneasy about returning, but he had been welcomed back with open arms by most of the Garou and their kin who protected Raging Falls. But he had been totally uninterested in this ritual, he said he had been restored to glory by Dominic's words, and didn't need this business of picking a new name. Of course it was mostly a symbolic gesture, casting aside your old Garou name and picking a new one to be reborn' with. He who had been Conner Degear kept his head down and remained silent. Marn frowned down at Conner.

Well, old friend? What is your new name?

Conner slowly lifted his head, his ice hard eyes looking about him calmly. He ticked his jaw slightly upwards and looked at the moon overhead.

I am ronin.

He stood up and turned away. Behind him the assembled packs murmured amongst themselves at his odd act. Charlie quickly hopped to his feet, his hand catching at Conner's shoulder. Conner glanced at him quizzically as Charlie turned back to the packs.

Conner Ronin' Degear, the single warrior who alone strikes fear into any servants of the Wyrm! The packs chuckled. Nodding in agreement and then calling forth Conner's new name to the moon overhead. Charlie grinned over at him, the move showcasing the X' shaped scar on his cheek caused by Endelon's two knife strokes, one being his first wound of the mission, the other being the last. Come, they accept you back. Don't turn away from them. Let us leave the horrors of The Pit where they belong; buried there.

Conner nodded slowly, clasping Charlie's hand in his own. No longer a lone wolf. He was once more one of them, one of the Garou. 

* * *

I was wondering when you'd show up, said Jo quietly from where she sat on an overturned log looking up at the stars. Conner, Charlie, and Leona walked up to her. She smiled thinly. I heard the howls all the way hereit was a good song, Dominic would have liked it.

You were invited, said Charlie quietly. He had been worried with how grim Jo had become since Dominic's sacrifice. She only shrugged.

I didn't want to intrude. Besides, she turned and nodded at a long, narrow bundle of twigs and leaves covered by a dark and tattered black coat, I was busy collecting up some of his things. She stood up and patted the coat. He gave me this after our first mission together. I just sorta kept it around She shrugged again. It just reminds me of how solid and protective he was, no matter how big of a jerkoff he was being.

I got this, said Leona as she held up a broken piece of black stone. It's from The Maw, I picked it up before we left. It was part of the last piece of Gaia he touched before she snarled and blinked her eyes, I just figured it'd mean something. Charlie grinned and nodded at her, patting her shoulder.

I brought this, he offered as he pulled out a small pile of papers and set them atop the coat. It's the first song I ever wrote. The original draft. It's about us. I figured he'd like to know how he'd be remembered.

I brought this, so we could forget. Conner stepped forward and lay a length of bloodstained white fur down. He looked up at the starry sky. You gave me back who I was, but all I am is who I have become. But, you became something great in your last moments, whatever your sins. He stepped back, one of his hands reaching up to brush the deep scar on his chest that lay over his heart as he eyed the white fur. Then he glanced at Charlie and grinned slightly. It is a time to allow the past to be the past.

May I join? They looked up in surprise at the figure stepping out of the shadows. Syntax crossed her arms over her chest, her gray eyes looking at the collection of items. I too wish toremember him, though I didn't bring anything.

whispered Jo as she walked up and gripped Syntax's arm. You brought yourself. Somehow, I literally think that's enough for him.

They set fire to the collection of items; watching the bright orange flames leap and dance about.

He taught me how to be a hero, said Charlie as he watched the fire.

He taught me how to hunt Wyrmspawn, growled Leona softly.

He showed me how to admit my own errors and see my own victories, said Conner.

He slew my pack, said Syntax coldly, her eyes burning with a fire of their own as she watched the flames. She then shook her head. But, I can no longer hate him for it, however much I may want to. She turned and walked away. Slowly the others also departed until only Jo stood quietly in the darkness, looking at the smoldering embers.

I didn't really expect it to end this way, she whispered softly. I just planned to help you sort out some of your problems. I was gonna hook you back up with Conner and Syntax and, she shook her head, and I guess I sorta blew it. She blinked back a few tears. I'd intended for you to be alive at the end, not to have to die killing something that should have already been dead. She scuffed her foot on the ground, hiding her eyes behind her long dark hair. you told me to never change, never lose my so-called joy for life. She shook her head. I'll do it, but only cause you asked so nicely. She grinned weakly as she looked up at the moon overhead. She still heard the howls of the Garou, honoring the fallen.

They've got it wrong, Dom, you know that, don't you? They mourn the fall of a great hero, not the loss of a friend like we did. That's why I didn't go to their rituals. That's why I'll miss you man, not because you were great, or brave, or a hero. I'll just miss my friend. Literally.

Jo watched the last few wisps of smoke curl up into the sky. They twirled about in the wind as the moon illuminated them. She smiled softly as she looked at the moon and heard the howls of the Garou. Then she turned and started walking slowly back towards Detroit. Tomorrow was a brand new day, and who knew what might happen that would need her help? Or perhaps Conner's? Or Leona's, Syntax's, or Charlie's?

After all, there would always be new heroes.

The End. 

It started as just another story, but for some reason it just seemed to metastasize into 165 pages of ten point font fun. The story itself came from a half remembered line I'd come up with during a dream and scribbled down in the middle of the night. I remember most of the dream, but the notes I took were woefully incoherent. (Well, write a note at three in the morning right after waking up and see how well you do) It didn't stop me, but I must admit one line out there I really sort of expected to be better then it was. (In case you care it's the line of how Kendar collapses down to the packs after Endelon kills himyeah, that was the inspiration point. I built this story so Endelon could murder his friend.) I was somewhat expecting an epiphany or moving moment to happen now. But for some reason it mostly feels anticlimatic.

I feel as though I owe thanks to people. Mostly I wish to thank anyone *anyone* who actually read the whole thing. Honestly I can't care whether or not you liked it if you were willing to make that sort of investment into me and my creations. I also wish to thank FurySForge, Tremere, Robert R., Grayflank (the horse that writes...heh!), PK'chu, TigerClaw, Yi Hisen, and any other writers who have reviewed my works (even if I suck enough not to have remembered to mention you), you're all what kept me going.Reviews rock, as I'm sure you all know.

Special thanks to Icy Mike, who first gave me the goal to try to write a long story. Special thanks to Tremere for being there from the get-go and rooting for Jo even more then I did (really, it's sorta sick) Also special thanks to Robert R. whose gentle prodding really helped me slog through the last couple edits and actually *finish* this beast, couldn't have done it without you; thanks man! To my Mom (so I'm cheesy, shoot me) who gave me an appreciation for reading. To me Dad (cheese!) who taught me not to quit. To Tremere for getting more fun out of Jo then even I do. To FurySForge for spotting little errors and pointing out problems (whether or not I accepted them as problems) that he thought I should consider and improve on. And to my little brother who plagiarized one of my works in order to easily get a college creative writing paper. The A+ he received with teacher's adulations are of questionable benefit to him, but for some reason made my chest (and head) swell.

It is now 8:58 on a Wednesday night and I am tired and need food and lavatory breaks. I wrote this little aside mostly for myself rather then anyone else. But I well. I'm done! Now onto bigger and better things, or so we hope. Now, to close off;

Evil triumphs when good men do nothing - Edmund Burke (paraphrased)

The writing triumphs when you finish - me, alone in my room and hungry.

Night all, thanks for joing in on the journey.

Thor.


End file.
